pYENTURE-^eWAIl%^UNION, 


VC^T         7  i     NOVELIbl  PLBLI^HlNOi 

'    ^^i^»      •  .  1  No     IS    Ro-E   -TIlFtT 


NEW  YORK.       r^^i'^or.Mfu  '^^""^       NO .  252. 


mi  (lie  Patider : "' 


Bullet  and  Bayonet  on 
Missouri  Battlefields. 

By  Captain  Mark  Wilton. 


Zagon3a's  famous  charge. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


FREMONT,  THE  PATHFINDER; 


lullet  and   Bayonet  on   Missouri 
Battlefields. 


BY  CAPT.   MARK    WILTON. 


There  was  a  bright  flashiug  in  the  air,  a 
steady  tramp  as  of  many  ft- et,  a  clear,  terse 
command,  and  a  liody  ot  men  came  march- 
ing through  a  rooky  pass.  The  bright  suu 
strucli  upon  polished  rifdo-barrel  and  glisten- 
ing bayonet,  which  sent  out  strange  lights 
here  and  there,  and  in  every  point  and  feat- 
ure the  appearance  of  the  men  bespoke  stern 
resolution. 

It  was  a  time  of  excitement  and  warlike 
alarm  in  Missouri,  this  memorable  day  of 
July,  1861;  but  the  men  to  whom  attention 
has  been  called  were,saTing  their  leader,  with- 
out uniforms.  Dressed  as  ordinary  citizens, 
they  would  have  looked  peaceful  enough, 
had  it  not  been  for  their  array  of  weapons, 
their  stern  faces,  and  their  military  precision 
of  movement. 

Eighty  men  they  counted,  and  at  their 
head  was  a  flne-looking  man,  who  seemed  to 
be  their  leader,  though  he  was  not  more  than 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  while  some  of  those 
who  followed  had  many  threads  of  gray  in 
their  lieards  and  hair. 

"Silence  in  the  ranks!"  he  commanded, 
sharply,  as  two  of  his  men  began  hurling 
sarcastic  badinage  the  length  of  a  line.  "No 
loud  talking." 

The  pass  was  a  dark  and  gloomy  place,  de- 
spite the  fact  that  it  was  ]ust  then  touched 
by  the  rays  of  the  sun.  The  rocks  on  either 
side  were  black,  moist  from  a  recent  shower, 
and  scarcely  further  apart  than  the  width  of 
a  narrow  road. 

Captain  Barlow  scanned  the  front  with  a 
keen  gaze.  He  expected  no  oppoeition  to 
his  march,  but  affairs  were  very  uncertain 
in  and  about  Missouri  at  that  day. 

This  umertuinty  was  soon  shown. 

Without  any  warning  a  roar  ran  along  the 
face  of  the  rocks— a  sound  once  heard  not 
easily  forgotten,  for  it  was  that  of  muskets 
— and  Captain  Barlow,  instinctively  looking 
around  after  a  shower  of  bullets  whistled 
past  his  head,  saw  the  ground  plentifully 
covered  with  dead  and  dying  of  his  gallant 
command. 

Another  moment,  and  the  rocks  seemed  to 
be  alive  with  men.  High  above  their  heads 
they  were  on  both  sides,  and  the  bleak  walls 
bristled  with  muskets. 

The  little  baud  had  marched  into  an  am- 
bush! 

It  was  no  time  for  tedious  formalities. 
Barlow  read  the  truth  and  planned  the  rem- 
edy. He  saw  his  remaining  men  standing  in 
consternation,  but  he  knew  their  mettle  and 
what  he  might  expect. 

"Fire!" 

The  terse  command  broke  fleraaiy  from 
his  throat;  his  sword,  glistening  iis  a  ray  of 
the  sun  fell  through  a  break  in  the  rocky 
wall,  pointed  to  the  men  aliove,  and  with 
startling  quickness  the  ordi-r  was  ulji  yed. 

Up  went  the  weapons— tin-  inujuiity  of 
them  long  rifles — and  a  tinil.].'  voil.-v  went 
hurtling  through  the  air.  .N.i  systeuiiuie  dis- 
charge was  that  volley  ;  e;icli  man  had  fired 
after  his  own  fashion,  but  the  effect  was 
most  terrible  to  the  ambushers. 

There  was  a  commotion  all  along  the 
rocks,  and  men  were  seen  to  clutch  bUndly 
at  tlie  spurs  of  stone,  at  each  other,  or  at 
I'uijity  air. 

Vain  attempt  for  many  of  them,  and  a 
tbiill  ran  through  Barlow's  nerves  as  several 
slipped  over  the  edge,  and,  after  whirling 
for  a  minute  in  space,  fell  on  the  soil  of  the 
roadway  with  a  dull  thud. 

Strange  to  say,  the  little  band,  though  sur- 
prised, had  struck  back  harder  than  they 
had  been  hit. 

Barlow,  however,  was  not  done.  He  rec- 
ognized the  men  who  had  thus  ambushed 
him.  They  were  Confedei-ates,  and  his  com- 
mand had  been  assailed  because  they  had 
taken  sides  with  the  defenders  of  the  Union. 

"  Up  the  rocks — charge  !" 

Once  more  Barlow's  voice  rang  out  sharp- 
ly, aud  the  gallant  Missourlans  responded 
with  a  yell  and  a  rush.  The  rocks  arose 
steeply  before  them,  but  they  were  almost  as 
skillful  as  chamois  hunters.  They  struck 
the  base  and  began  to  climb  amid  a  scatter- 
ing volley,  Barlow  leading  the  way  on  one 
side  and  Dave  Harney  on  the  other. 


"For  the  Union  and  Sigel — strike!"  shout- 
ed Captain  Max ;  aud  then  he  deftly  dodged 
a  blow  from  a  clubbed  musket  and  sent  his 
sword  home  to  the  man  who  would  have 
struck  him. 

The  impetuosity  of  his  men  had  carried 
them  quickly  up,  and  then  the  flght  became 
general  all  along  the  rocks. 

The  sound  of  revolvers,  the  clashing  of  op- 
posing steel,  and  the  shouts  of  f  urioiis  men 
made  a  din  strange  to  the  pass.  The  deadly 
enemies  grappled  and  fought,  aiming  to  kill 
or  throw  each  from  the  rocks. 

"  For  the  Union  and  Sigel !" 

Again  and  again  the  cry  sounded  on  the 
air,  and  before  those  hard  lighters  the  Con- 
federates gave  ground. 

Captain  Barlow  was  always  found  where 
the  destruction  was  the  greatest.  A  tine 
swordsman,  he  was  battling  with  a  blade 
wet  with  blood. 

One  thing  he  marked,  even  then.  The 
Confederates  seemed  without  a  leader.  No 
commaiKiing  voice  arose  to  encourage  or 
direct  them;  it  seemed  to  be  each  man  for 
himself. 

Suddenly  the  confusion  turned  to  alarm. 


turned  and  fled  in  disorder, 

Pursued  for  some  distance,  others  fell  by 
the  way,  but  Barlow  finally  called  off  his 
men  and,  all  returned  to  the  scene  of  the 
ambush. 

A  decisive  victory  had  been  won,  but  at  a 
cost  which  threw  a  gloom  over  the  whole 
command. 

Thirteen  of  their  eighty  men  lay  dead  in 
and  beside  the  pass,  and  others  were  severe- 
ly wounded.  To  offset  this  loss  was  the  fact 
that  nearly  twice  as  many  Confederates  had 
fallen. 

Barlow,  who  had  been  glancing  about, 
saw  something  which  at  once  held  his  atten- 
tion. 

Near  the  base  of  the  rocks  was  a  man  in 
the  uniform  of  a  Confederate  captain.  He 
walked  to  his  side  and,  looking  down  on  the 
still,  white  face,  understood  why  the  enemy 
had  been  without  a  leader's  voice. 

"This  is  a  sad  and  strange  business,"  he 
said,  aloud.  "I  do  not  understand  why 
these  men  were  here  to  intercept  us.  Was 
it  chance,  or — or  was  there  a  traitor  among 
those  who  knew  we  would  to-day  march  to 
join  Sigel?  So  cunning  aud  systematic  an 
ambush  bespeaks  careful  study.  Can  it  be 
our  plans  were  carried  to  our  enemies  ?" 

"  It  looks  mightily  like  it,"  answered  one 
of  his  men. 

"  Who  could  have  done  it?"  Barlow  sharp- 
ly asked. 

"Now  you  ask  too  much.  Only  a  few 
beside  our  own  number  knew  of  our  inten- 
tions." 

"I  believe  they  were  known  by  one  too 
many.  Drayton,  if  I  ever  know  such  to  be 
a  fact,  I  will  tear  the  traitor  limb  from 
limb.  Look  on  these  dead  men !  They  were 
our  neighbors— almost  our  brothers.  Did 
they  fall  through  the  treachery  of  some 
vile  dog  who  betrayed  us  ?  I  must  and  will 
know." 

"It  is  a  sad  work." 

"  The  saddest  ever  seen  in  Jasper  county. 
And  this  is  the  Fourth  of  July!  Ah!  we 
have  little  occasion  to  rejoice." 

Just  then,  Dave  Harney  came  up,  aud  sa- 
luted his  superior. 

"  The  bodies  are  all  cared  for,  cap'n,"  he 
said. 

"  Then  let  us  get  in  motion  once  more," 
said  Barlow,  with  a  start.  '•  Stay !  this  offi- 
cer may  have  important  papers  on  his  per- 
son." 

He  bent  over  the  Confederate  captain  and 
searched  his  pockets.  In  one  he  found  a 
package  of  folded  documents  which  he  put 
away  for  examination  at  a  future  time. 

Then  the  httle  command  formed  into 
ranks,  and  moved  on,  leaving  the  Confeder- 
ate dead  where  they  had  fallen. 

Who,  and  what  were  the  men  thus  led  by 
Max  Barlow  on  that  July  day  of  1861  ? 

The  cival  war,  which  at  that  time  was 
startling  the  people  of  the  United  States,  was 
beginning  to  show  its  venom. 

From  Texas  to  Maryland  the  Southerners 
were  gathering  for  the  fray.  They  had  re- 
solved to  secede  from  the  Union,  they  had 
flred  upon  and  captured  Fort  Sumter,  and 
on  all  sides  were  seen  and  heard  signs  of  the 
great  struggle  doomed  to  occur. 

In  Missouri,  all  was  confusion.  Some  men 
were  for  the  Union  and  others  against  it. 
FamiUes  were  divided,  and  brothers  in  arms 
against  each  other,  while  those  who  would 
have  remained  neutral  were  in  an  unenvia- 
ble position. 

Companies  and   regiments,   loyal  and  dis- 


lant  Union  leader,  drove  the  Confederate 
forces  of  Price  and  Jackson  from  Booneville; 
but  they  at  once  turned  th»ir  faces  south, 
and  sought  to  form  their  own  forces  and  that 
of  Ben  McCulloch  into  one  Hnited  army 
which  would  rule  that  part  of  Missouri. 

There,  however,  they  found  a  new  oppo- 
nent. Colonel  Franz  Sigel,  ever  vigilant  to 
guard  the  interests  of  the  Union,  did  not 
fail  to  perceive  the  danger  of  the  coalition 
of  those  who  would  tear  down  the  old  tlag. 

Consequently,  although  possessed  of  but  a 
handful  of  men,  compared  with  the  num- 
bers of  the  Confederate  chiefs,  he  resolved 
to  strike  at  least  one  of  them  before  a  junc- 
tion was  effected. 

So,  on  this  Fourth  of  July,  Sigel  was  march- 
ing to  attack  Price,  who  was  at  Pool's  Prai- 
rie, near  Neosho,  and  the  prospect  of  a  bat- 
tle grew  great. 

The  blow  did  not  fall  where  expected, 
however;  for  Price  fled  from  his  quarters  to 
Elk  Mills,  some  miles  further  south. 

Then  Sigel  resolved  to  attack  Jackson, 
who  was  further  north,  and  his  little  army 
was  accordingly  headed  for  that  point. 

That  evening,  he  encamped  with  his  force 
on  the  south  fork  of  Spring  River,  only  wait- 
ing for  a  needed  rest  to  push  on  toward 
Lamar,  aud  strike  at  Governor  Jackson. 


CHAPTER  II. 

UNDEK     FIKE. 

Captain  Ma.x  Barlow  and  his  handful  jf 
men  were  marching  to  join  Sigel,  and  render 
all  possible  aid  in  this  crisis.  They  loved  the 
Union,  of  which  each  and  every  one  was  a 
son  by  birth,  and  -were  willing  to  risk  limb 
and  life  in  the  work  of  upholding  the  old 
flag. 

All  were  from  one  neighborhood,  all  bound 
together  by  ties  of  friendship.  Barlow  was 
one  of  them  by  birth  and  connection,  but  a 
superiority  of  mind  had  ever  made  him  a 
leader  from  the  day  when  he  used  to  array 
his  schoolmate  friends  on  the  prairie,  and 
march  to  the  whistling  of  Jim  Otis,  with 
crooked  sticks  for  muskets. 

Fifteen  5ears  had  passed  since  that  day. 
Barlow  had  become  a  man ;  and,  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1861,  there  was  ample  need  for  him  to 
do  more  than  play  soldier. 

When  he  and  his  loyal  friends  had  joined 
hands,  and  resolved  to  march  to  the  aid  of 
Colonel  Sigel,  Max  had  been  made  captain 
by  acclamation;  and  as  a  result  of  these 
preliminary  movements,  we  find  them  that 
day  before  the  battle  on  their  way. 

After  the  ambush  and  flght  iii  the  pass, 
they  saw  no  more  trouble,  and  a  little  after 
dark  they  reached  the  camp  of  Sigel. 

Barlow  was  soon  before  the  colonel.  For- 
malities were  little  observed  at  that  hour, 
and  the  Union  leader,  so  embarrassed  by  a 
lack  of  proper  aid,  was  glad  enough  to  enlist 
all  loyal  men  who  would  come  to  his  stand- 
ard. 

The  two  men  were  on  the  open  field,  and 
Barlow  made  known  his  wishes. 

"  Take  your  place  in  the  camp  somewhere, 
captain,  and  on  the  morrow  march  as  you 
see  fit.  After  the  battle,  if  we  survive,  there 
will  be  a  chance  for  formal  enlistment,  and 
1  will  give  you  all  the  chance  I  can.  As  I 
said  a  moment  ago,  I  have  heard  the  name 
of  Barlow  before." 

"  I  am  anxious  to  form  a  party  of  iude-  ' 
pendent  rangers,"  said  Max. 

"There  will  soon  be  material  enough.  Men 
are  arousing  everywhere." 

"They  need  to,  colonel." 

"  Indeed  they  do,"  soberly  replied  Sigel. 
"  Look  at  the  situation  here.  Jackson,  Price 
and  McCulloch  are  roving  rough-shod  and 
making  life  uncertain.  They  must  be  beaten 
off  or  our  chances  are  despeiatp. 

"Youhev  saddled  a  big  boss,  knrnrl." 

A  new  voice  broke  in  upmi  ih. 
turned  to  see  a  man  who  diil  nut 
troubled  by  the  fact  that  In- 
rupted  officers  of  the  army.  In 
not  look  like  a  man  who  would  let  anything  | 
worry  him  to  a  great  degree. 

He  was  a  man  of  medium  size,  but  com- 
pactly built,  his  form  being  rounded  out  by 
bone  and  muscle  in  a  way  to  excite  admira- 
tion. There,  however,  ended  all  his  just 
claims  to  beauty.  Clad  in  a  suit  of  ragS,  he 
presented  an  appearance  almost  comical. 

His  hair  and  beard  were  of  a  yellow-: 
color,  the  latter  sparse  and  tangled,  and  the 
former  long  and  coarse,  and  his  complexion 
was  of  a  ruddy,  flame  color. 

Both  Sigel  and  Barlow   smiled   at   seeii 
this  red-faced,  red-haired  recruit,  and  " 


'\S. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


the  former  answered  his  unasked-for  re- 
mark. 

"  So  you  think  our  chances  desperate,  my 
good  man?" 

"  An  ordinary  man  would  never  come  out 
•'  the  muss  alive ;  but  I  know  your  timber, 
kurn«l,  an'  I  reckon  we  won't  see  a  slaugh- 
ter. Still,  1  tell  ye  Jackson  is  goin'  ter  lick 
us  to-morrer.  Why?  Bekasehis  force  is  so 
much  bigger  than  ours  that  we  can't  get  any 
show." 

**  And  who  are  you,  sir?" 

"  Sharpshot  is  my  name,  kurmel.  Some- 
times they  call  me  Sharpshot,  the  scout,  an' 
agin  the  sharjishooter.    It's  all  one  to  me." 

"Sharpshot,  the  sharpshooter,"  laughed 
Barlow.  **  Not  a  bad  name.  Do  you  come 
from  Sharpville,  Sliarpe  county?" 

"  Now  you  are  laughiu'  at  me,  cap'n.  Don't 
do  it.    I  ain't  ter  Ijlame  fur  my  name." 

"  What  are  the  numbers  of  the  enemy?" 
Sigel  asked,  abruptly. 

"  I  don't  know,  kui-uel ;  but  ef  you  want 
ter  find  out,  you  liad  better  do  it  'arly  to- 
morrer.  Ben  McCuUoch  an'  Price  will  be 
around  heie  before  another  sundown,  au' 
then  whar  would  we  be?" 

"  In  our  boots,  dead  or  alive?"  said  Barlow, 
with  a  reckless  lauj;h. 

They  questioned  the  man  wlio  had  claimed 
so  odd  a  name  somewhat  further;  but,  as  he 
did  not  seem  to  possess  any  actual  informa- 
tion, finally  set  him  down  as  a  croaker,  and, 
walking  away,  left  him  to  himself. 

The  night  passed  without  further  events  of 
importance,  but,  ou  the  following  morning, 
the  little  army  was  early  astir. 

An  advance  was  begun  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  the  devoted  band  moved  on. 

In  all,  they  counted  but  fifteen  hundred 
men,  but  their  strength  was  greatly  increas- 
ed by  two  batteries  of  artillery,  each  con- 
taining four  pieces. 

Moving  nearly  northward,  the  Unionists 
were  not  long  in  sighting  their  opponents. 

Barlow's  command  had  fallen  iuto  line 
near  Major  Bischoff's    laniioii,  l.ir    many  of 

the  men  seemed  attracted  tn  tln^  pit ~;  l'>ut, 

na  mounted  riflemeu  liegau  to  In-  .-.-.ii  in  ad- 
vance, they  pushed  ahead  aud  ai'tid  as  a 
skirmish  line. 

The  horsemen  before  referred  to  did  not 
eeem  inclined  to  do  much  fighting. 

They  skurried  aljout  in  the  dashing  man- 
ner peculiar  to  mounted  men,  but  all  the 
while  kept  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  Union 
rifles. 

"What  are  the  critters  drivin' at?"  de- 
manded one  of  the  men. 

"In  my  opinion,  they  are  merely  watching 
me,"  replied  Barlow.  "You  see  they  give 
ground  as  fast  as  we  advance,  and,  in  this 
way,  they  will  soon  know  just  what  our 
strength  is." 

"That  don't  seem  right." 

"It  ain't  right,  an'  I  want  to  know  why 
you  allow  it.  Why  don't  you  drop  the  mis- 
erable creeturs  ?" 

Barlow  turned  to  see  Sharpshot. 

"Aha!  are  vou  here?" 

"Whar  else'should  I  be?" 

"I  don't  know  why  you  should  be  in  my 
command,"  said  Ma.x,  "a  little  sharply. 

"Lord!  I  ain't  here  fur  any  harm.  You 
say  them  creeturs  can't  be  hit  from  hyar,  do 
you  ?" 

"  Possibly  they  might  if  we  were  to  halt 
for  that  purpose." 

"Nonsense!  Let  me  show  you  a  point  or 
two." 

As  he  spoke,  the  sharpshooter  threw  up  his 
long  rifle  and  took  aim  for  a  moment. 

Barlow  noticed  that  the  barrel  did  not 
tremble  in  the  least,  and  admired  his  nerve, 
but  he  felt  more  pleased  when,  following  the 
crack  of   the   piece,  one   of    the    horsemen 

i  reeled  in  his  saddle,  and  then  went  down 
helplessly. 
"Told  you  so,"  said  Sharpshot,  with  a 
chuckle.  "Lord!  it  ain't  much  o' a  trick 
ter  throw  lead.  Try  your  hand,  cap'n,  will 
I  you?" 

"Not  now,  my  good  man,   May  be  we  will 
get  at  those  fellows  in  force  by  and  by." 
1      The  scout  reloaded  while  in  motion,  but, 
'  with  his  gaze  fixed    on    the    enemy,  seemed 
deep  in  thought. 

"Cap'n,"  he  finally  said,  "ef  vou  will  take 
twenty   men  an'  toiler  my  lead,  I'll  show 
them  fellers  a  trick  they  can't  swaller  with- 
out chokiu'." 
"What  is  the  trick?" 

"We  are  movin'  uncommon  slow,  now; 
what  is  to   hinder  our   ruunin'  around  to 
their  rear  an'  lay  in' au  ambush  for  them?" 
"Can  it  be  done?" 
"Why  not?" 

"  I  for  one,  don't  know  the  country  well 
t'uough." 
"I  do;  I  know  every    foot   of    it.    What 


vict'ry 

Sharpshot  spoke  eagerly,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment Barlow  remembered  that  he  was  a 
stranger,  and  doubted  the  wisdom  of  trust- 
ing him . 

Just  then,  however,  they  reached  the  spot 
where  lay  the  sharpshooter's  victim,  and 
that  seemed  to  settle  the  question  of  his 
good  faith. 

"I  will  consult  Colonel  Sigel,"  said  Bar- 
low. 

He  did  as  he  said,  received  the  required 
permission,  aud  then  twenty  of  his  men  de- 
tach 1  themselves  from  the  others  so  cun- 
ningly that  the  Confederate  scouts  did  not 
suspect  the  ruse. 

Sharpshot  led  the  way,  and  they  were 
soon  on   the  left  flank  of  the  Union  force. 

Still,  on  they  went.  The  gi-ound  was  hilly 
and  liroken,  and  the  guide  led  the  way 
wliere  they  were  for  the  most  part  screened 
by  trees  aiul  higli  laud. 

Now  anil  then  they  saw  the  horsemen  off 
atth(.'  cast,  Imt  tlifir  own  movements  seemed 


gives  a  boss  aiaecc,-  ho  added. 

"  Don't  cook  your  game  until  it  is  caught," 
cautioned  Barlow,  who  was  not  wholly  at 
his  ease. 

"We're  goin' ter  have  it,"  said  the  scout, 
confidently. 

Just  theu,  a  cry  arose  from  the  men  at  the 
rear,  and  Barlow  wheeled  to  see  a  startling 


om  around  the  head  of  a  hill,  a  body  of 
dry  had  suddenly  swept,  all  clad  in  Con- 
federate gray,  and  armed  to  the  teeth,  and 


cavalry  had  suddenly  swept,  all  clad 
'erate  gray,  and  armed  to  the  tee 
they  dashed  straight  toward  the  Union 


scouts,  there  was  an  ominous  clanking  of 
scabbers. 

Barlow  saw  the  danger  and  prepared  to 
meet  it.  Tlie  eiieiiiy  were  two  to  their  one, 
aud  when  it  conu-s  to  close  (piarters,  cavalry 
have  a  vast  superiority  over  foot  soldiers. 

These  men  were  their  deadly  enemies,  and 
must  be  dealt  with  accordingly,  while  the 
first  blow  aiways  tells. 

"Boys,  it's  doordie!"hesaid,quiokly, and 
in  the  fashion  familiar  to  them  in  Indian 
warfare.     "All  together— fire!" 

It  was  not  so  elaborate  an  order  as  the 
stereotyped  one  of  military  form,  butalmost 
as  one"  man  the  brave  fellows  aimed  and 
fired. 

Destruction  followed  the  discharge,  and 
men  swayed  blindly  in  their  sadales,  and 
then  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 

Ten  Confederates  would  ride  no  more,  but 
they  still  outnumbered  the  Unionists,  and 
had  the  advantage  ot  being  mounted. 

Seeing  that  they  were  not  checked  in  the 
least.  Barlow  was  for  a  moment  at  fault. 
His  force  were  armed  with  rifles  which  were 
without  bayonets,  and  the  enemy  must  be 
met  at  a  disadvantage. 

CHAPTER  III. 

HARD     FIGHTING. 

It  was  a  critical  moment,  for  the  Confed- 
erates were  near  at  hand  and  coming  at  a 
gallop,  their  sabers  glistening  in  the  air, 
but  Sharpshot  did  not  seem  to  be  long  at 
fault. 

He  sprung  to  the  head  of  the  column  and 
waved  a  long  bowie-knife  above  his  head. 

"Here's  a  chance  fur  fun!"  he  shouted. 
"  Meet  'era  on  your  own  gi-ound  au'  cut  your 
bigness.    Hurrah  fur  Sigel  an'  the  old  flag !" 

His  words  and  example  thrilled  the  men, 
and  they  cheered  in  the  face  of  the  danger. 
Barlow  aroused  and  became  the  stern  war- 
rior in  a  moment. 

"Revolvers  and  bowies!"  he  shouted. 
"  Empty  every  saddle  you  can  before  they 
close,  and  then  use  the  steel.  Every  man  for 
himself!" 

There  was  no  time  to  say  more.  Already 
the  Confederates  were  but  a  tew  yards  away, 
and  their  horses  covered  a  great  strip  of 
ground  at  every  leap. 

Out  came  the  smaller  weapons  of  the 
Unionists.  All  their  lives  had  been  passed 
in  desultory  fighting  with  the  Indians,  and 
when  the  closiug  order  from  Barlow  reach- 
ed their  ears  Hiey  knew  how  to  act. 

There  was  a  sudden  cracking  along  their 
whole  front  as  their  revolvers  began  to  play, 
aud  at  that  distance  they  were  not  men  to 
miss  their  mark.  They  fired,  and  other 
Confederates  went  down  from  their  saddles, 
and  other  wild-eyed  horses  went  bounding 


bayonet,  a  horse  and  rider  loom  up  tre- 
mendously. 

He  sees  the  horse,  his  eyes  wild  and  flash- 
ing, his  feet  dashing  up  the  earth  in  little, 
spiteful  jets,  and  above  him  towers  the 
rider,  saber  in  hand. 

The  picture  is  a  startling  one,  we  say,  and 
so  all  the  more  glory  to  those  loyal  sons  of 
Missouri  for  the  way  in  which  they  met  it. 

Like  bloodhounds  they  sprung  forward  to 


The  sabers  of  the  cavalrymen  flashed 
brighter  than  ever  as  they  were  swung  aloft, 
and  then  down  they  came  with  a  sweep 
meant  for  loyal  heads. 

Some  of  them  found  their  victims.  Two 
or  three  brave  men  sunk  to  the  ground  ter- 
ribly gashed,  but  the  majoritv  dodged  the 
stroke,  and  then  tluii- r.volviis  began  to 
crack  again. 

Look  at  Captain  Bailo^v-:  [lis  powerful 
hand  lias  -insiK'd  the  biidk-reiu  ot  a  black 

llOlSO. 

'I'ln-   animal    b..uilds 


lifts  biiii  from  his  feet.  At 
tlie  rider  strikes.  Barlow 
anil    the    saber    whistles 


Then,  still  holdinii-  the  struggling  horse 
with  his  left  hand,  he  thrusts  his  revolver 
past  the  neck  and  above  the  shoulder  of  the 
animal. 

Again  the  saber  goes  up,  but  it  is  too  late. 
A  little  puff  of  smoke,  a  sharp  crack,  and 
the  blood  gushes  out  over  the  gray  coat  of 
the  trooper. 

He  throws  up  his  hands,  reels  and  falls. 
from  his  saddle. 

Look  at  Sharpshot. 

He  is  fighting  with  his  clubbed  rifle.  No 
rider  seems  able  to  reach  him,  but  the  rifle 
is  always  busy,  and  where  it  falls,  it  falls  to 

The  scene  is  wild  and  impressive,  but  It  Is 
soon  over.  The  contestants  separate,  as 
thoiifrh  mutually  tired  of  the  fray,  aud  what 
arc  lilt  of  tlie  troopers  gallop  away  in  head- 


great. 

Far  better  have  the  Unionists  fared,  but 
they  do  not  care  to  pursue  their  advantage. 
Five  of  their  own  number  are  down,  and 
others  have  hard  knocks  to  attract  their  at- 
tention. 

Stained  by  smoke  and  blood  they  look 
grimly  at  each  other,  silent  thus  far,  but 
the  irrepressible  Sharpshot  finds  his  tongue 
very  soon. 

"Hurrah!"  he  cried,  tossing  up  his  old 
cap.  "  Told  you  thar  was  fight  In  your  crit- 
ters, Cap'n  Barlow.  They've  did  It,  an'  they 
kin  do  itag'in." 

"We  have  lost  five  men,"  said  Barlow, 
sadly. 

"An'theyhev  lost  four  times  five.  It's 
the  way  o'  war.  But,  cap'n,  I  reckon  our 
ijee  Is  knocked  In  the  head.  We  can 't  lay  no 
trap  fur  them  cavalry,  fur  they  know  w© 
are  on  the  hoof." 

'It  looks  to  me  as  though   we  have  ru» 

'"  "   ' -si-ivos,'  said   the   captaui, 


into 
looking  a 

"Whogoi  th<  wu-^i  out?  Ireckon  them 
critters  won  t  caio  to  laokle  us  ag'iu.  ' 

"lamiueliuudto  think  that  if  we  don't 
get  back  to  our  army  before  long,  we  will  be 
attacked  by  a  force  we  can't  defy.  Our 
game  is  up,  at  anyrate.  We  will  fall  back 
and  avoid  losing  more  men." 

They  slowly  retraced  their  steps,  waiting 
for  Sigel  and  his  braves  to  join  them. 

Sharpshot  had  grown  strangely  silent. 
Suddenly  he  aroused  and  weut  to  Barlow's 


mi^dity  quiet  an'  sly, 
luiii  troupers,  so  scat- 
eiiuld   so  (luicklyget 


and  looked  like  one  able  to  penetrate  niote 
and  plans.  ^ 

Barlow  remembered,  too,  his  suspicions  in 
regard  to  the  ambush  in  the  pass,  and  one 
great  question  arose  in  his  mind. 

Was  their  a  traitor  in  their  midst? 

He  liad  not  made  his  answer  when  those 
of   his  own  command  who  had  remained 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Tvith  the  army,  began  to  arrive,  auil  the 
smaller  detaclimeut  fell  iuto  line. 

■•  What  Inck,  eap'u  ?"  asked  Sam  Stiles. 

"We  reluin  minus  five  brave  souls;  let 
that  lie  my  aiiswii ,'  said  Barlow,  moodily. 

They  \v.iil  nii,  diiviug  the  mounted  Cou- 
federati's  b,  r,,n-  thi-m. 

Tile  l:iT!ri  luatk'  in*  stand,  and  seemed  cou- 
teut  to  wall  li. 

On  went.Si^ers  army. 

Dry  Fork  L'reek  was  reached  and  passed; 
but,  three  miles  further  on,  Sharpshot,  who 
had  pressed  well  to  the  trout,  fell  back  in 
some  haste. 

He  came  to  say  that  he  had  found  the  ene- 
my, and  that  they  were  halted,  and  await- 
ing the  Unionists  on  a  rise  of  ground  a  little 
beyond. 

Sigel  stayed  the  adrauee  of  his  army,  and 
the  Seoul,  with  ..ih.is  of  his  eratt,  were  sent 

out  to  reeouuoiter. 

When  they  returin-il,  it  was  to  report  that 
Jackson's  force  greatly  outnumbered  theirs, 
and  tliat  he  was  well  provided  with  cav- 
alry. 

"  How  about  artillery  »"  Sigel  asked. 

"  I  can  answer  that."  said  Sharpshot, 
quickly.  "Thar's  whar  they  are  weak.  They 
have  only  a  few  old  pieces,  and  what  they 
hev  ain't  o'  much  use.  They  are  loaded  with 
trace-ehams,  bits  o'  old  iron  an'  the  like." 

"Then  we  will  make  our  cannon  do  the 
work.  Major  Bisehoff,  get  your  guns  into 
position  and  open  upon  them." 

The  order  was  executed  promptly,  and  the 
deep  b0om  of  the  guns  sounded  along  the 
Iront. 

The  return  fire  was  weak,  and  it  was  soon 
seen  that  Sharoshot  had  spoken  truly  iu  re- 
gard to  the  enemy's  artillery. 

"  Who  IS  this  man  ?"  Sigel  asked  of  Barlow, 
as  the  sharpshooter  Happed  his  arms,  and  be- 
gan crowing,  which  woidd  have  put  a  farm- 
yard rooster  to  shame. 

"I  never  saw  him  until  he  interrupted  us 
at  the  camp  last  night,  as  you  will  remem- 
ber, colonel." 

"  He  seems  well  informed,  and  all  he  has 
thus  far  told  mo  has  been  proven  true.  It 
almost  seems  like  an  empty  form  to  send  my 
own  scouts  to  verify  what  he  tells  me,  but  ft 
willnot  do  to  trust  a  stranger  too  far." 

For  three  hours  the  work  of  the  Union  ar- 
tillery went  on. 

Bischoil  s!i""l  grimly  at  his  post  and 
dispatchcil  sin.;  alter  shot,  some  of  which 
seemed  cllcitnc,  and,  as  at  the  start,  the  re- 


they  were  making  it  warm  for  the  cavalry  ; 
but  they  showed  a  giveu  purpose  to  hold 
their  post  and  guard  the  road. 


Thel 


The  result  pr.,vcd  the  c^irrccm -ss  ,,f  his 
judgment.  It  was  louua  that  the  fuuteder- 
ate  cavalry,  imder  Rains,  was  moving  urou  ml 
both  flanks  of  the  Unionists,  and  pushing 
south. 

As  this  would  never  do,  with  Sigel's  bag- 
gage-train at  Dry  Fork  Ci  ■],  i;:  .;;,;i^.r,  1  i,c 
order  for  retreat  ran  :il"-,_  '   ihc 


;Wheull.!"r!>ii'l',-dI'r''u.'' 

prorapth'  lulicwcd.   i>.  1 
Bischolfs;:„us;   hall!,. 

the  little  arinv  uimfi,  , 

Itwasea,i..rle  vvi.ii  i 

■still  thel  Have  soMicr.  a 

to  lie  disregarded, 
y  Fork  Creek,  Sharp- 
tli  an  air  of   one  \*ho 


he  led  tiic  I 
back  track  : 
son  prcs>cil  t 
non  were  Ice 

As  they  ,1. 
shot  canic  Ic 
has  made  a  discMVery. 

"^ye'regoin'  ter  liave  a  brush  over  yon- 
der," he  said. 

"Where?" 

"  At  the  crick.  Them  troopers  have  got 
around  to  our  rear,  and  are  waiting  at  the 
bluffs.  You  know  that  place— the  road  is 
narrer  an'  right  throught  the  bluffs.  The 
Confeds  4cnow  it,  an'  thar  they  are  waitin' 
ter  give  us  a  try." 

It  was  important  news,  and  Sigel  was  not 
slow  to  beneUtbyit. 

As  they  noared  the  creek,  his  guns  were 
brought  around  to  the  front,  facing  the 
bluffs,  and  as  they  saw  the  gray  troopers 
drawn  up  to  receive  them,  the  cannon  were 
turned  upon  them. 

"Ha,  hal"  laughed  Sharpshot;  "that 
teches  them.  Oh,  they  are  jewels,  them 
boomin'  babies  !  " 

He  referred  to  the    cannou ;  and,  indeed. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

STARTI.IXG   DISCOVEBl- 

ligel's  Quick  eyes  f«iw  that  one 
was  needed.  He  turned,  and 
inick,  l>ut  calm  oiders.    The  re- 

^•reek  gathered 

'^     ■    ■     Barlow 

been  at 


111,  their  weapons  firmly 
tcruiiiied  gleam  iu  their 
rd  came. 

With  a  f-naiid  sweep  they  dashed  forward, 
breakniu  rr..iii  lOver  and  along  the  road. 
The  Coil tederatc cavalry  saw  what  was  com- 
ing, but  they  had  no  way  of  averting  the 
blow.  None  of  their  own  wretched  caiiuou 
were  near,  while,  as  the  Unionists  dashed 
down  the  slope  and  across  the  bed  of  the 
creek,  Bisehoff  sent  shot  after  shot  over 
their  heads. 

The  southern  bluff  was  reached  by  the  eager 
boys  in  blue,  and  the  boys  without  blue, 
who  had  loyal  hearts.  Then  up  they  went 
impetuou.sly. 

Before  that  siLdit  the  cavalry  wavered. 
Bisehoff  was  still  plnvnii;  on  their  precious 
band,  and  the  iufantiy  liade  fair  to  sweep 
them  from  existence. 

The  hurricane  struck.  The  Confederates 
were  brave,  and  they  tried  to  hold  the  pass, 
but  the  dash  of  the  Unionists  was  resistless. 
The  enemy  wavered,  struck  back  feebly  and 
then  turned  and  fled,  leaving  some  of  their 
men  dead  on  the  disputed  gi-ound. 

Then  the  army  proper  and  the  guns  came 
over  ijiiiekly,  and  their  faces  were  turned 
toward  Carthage. 

Sigel  could  no  longer  doubt  that  he  was 
menaced  liy  a  toe  too  strong  to  be  fought 
with  a  leasoiialile  chance  of  success.  His 
scouts  agreed  that  Jackson  had  three  men 
or  more  to  every  Unionist,  and  to  face  this 
army,  liable,  even  probable  as  they  were, 
to  soon  be  reinforced  by  Price  and  McCul- 
loch,  would  be  madness 

Accordingly,  with  the  Confederates  hang- 
ing on  their  rear  and  flanks,  and  with  nu- 
merous skirmishes  to  enliven  the  occasion, 
the  loyal  troops  went  on  in  an  orderly  man- 
ner as  far  as  Carthage. 

There,  Sigel  had  hoped  to  rest,  but  rest 
was  fraught  with  danger,  so  away  they 
went  to  Sarcoxie,  and  before  that  place  was 
reached  the  pursuit  was  abandoned. 

On  the  whole,  the  expedition  had  been 
sucessfiil.     The  Union  troops  had  faced  and 


Contedeiates  admitted  over 
i  number  on   the  list,  besides 

wounded. 

til  Sarcoxie  was  reached  that 
lered  the  papers  he  had  taken 
-t  of  the  dead  officer  in  the 
e  time  h.-  left  the  jjlace  of 
i   ineii   very  busy,  and,  not 

lime  that  they  would  be  of 
1  tliat  lie  held  the  documents 


lU  without  interest. 


This  was  what  he  read  in  the  coarse,  bold 
and  scholarly  handwriting  on  the  paper: 
'•N.B.— Will  probably  march  on  P.  M.  of  fourth,  to 
^Probably  not  over  seventy-five  or  eighty  in 


It  wasa  douuieut  which  told  a  good  deal. 
Coupled  with  the  fact  that  Barfow's  men 
hail  inarched  on  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth, 
eighty  in  nimilier  and,  by  way  of  the  pass, 
and  that  they  had  been  ambushed  by  men 
among  the  rocks,  it  left  no  doubt  but  that 
the  letter  referred  to  them. 

So  far,  all  was  clear,  and  so,  too,  was  the 
fact  that  some  one  had  betrayed  their  plans 
to  the  Confederates  and  sought  their  destruc- 
tion. 

The  plot  had  only  failed  because  the  gal- 
lant band  showed  themselves  men  of  un- 
common mettle. 

But  who  had  betrayed  them  ?  It  seemed  a 
useless  question,  for  at  the  end  of  the  letter 


was  a  name  plainly  written.    It  might  have 
been  an  assumed  one,  but  it  was  not. 

Captain  Barlow  knew  "Edgar  Peterson" 
well,  and  it  was  this  fact  which  sent  the 
blood  from  his  face  to  give  place  to  a  look  of 
unutterable  horror. 

One  moment  he  hesitated,  and  then  a  sud- 
den impulse  assailed  him. 

"I  will  hide  it!" 

Even  as  the  thoi 
voice  spoke  quickly 

"Aha!  sot/i(i(  is't 

Barlow  wheeled  a 
Sam  Stiles  and  allot 
over  his  shoiddcr. 

"  Dogs :  '  he  cried,  furiously,  "how  dare 
you  play  the  sjiy  on  my  actions?" 

The  men  stood  dumtounded.  They  were 
old  neighbors  of  thecaptaiii.  and  his  remark- 
able outburst  almost  sliiuned  them.  Other 
men  drew  near,  and  Stiles  apologetically  re- 
plied : 

"We  meant  no  harm,  cap'n." 

"Then  why  were  you  reading  private  pa- 
pers?   1  am  tempted  to " 

Barlow  realized  that  he  was  making  a  seri- 


eutered  his  mind,  a 
lie  captain's  elbow. 
Kline  of  the  traitor!" 
id  like  a  tiger  to  see 
man.    They  had  read 


ous  mistake,  and  paused  abruptly. 

"lam  sorry  if  I  c"  ^   " 

meekly. 


:  am  sorry  if  I  did   wrong,"   said  Stiles, 


"  What  did  you  say  about  finding  out  the 
traitor?  Does  that  paper  explain  any- 
thing?" asked  another  man,  who  had  not 
forgotten  how  Barlow  put  them  away  for 
future  inspection. 

"Yes,  it  does!"  cried  Stiles'  companion. 
"  It  is  the  letter  writ  by  the  man  who  be- 
trayed us,  and  caused  the  death  of  our  brave 
fellers  in  the  pass.  His  name  is  at  the  bot- 
tom, and  that  name  is  Ed  Peterson  !" 

The  man  spoke  indignantly,  hotly,  and  a 
murmur  of  like  character  ran  along  the  line. 
All  there  knew  Ed  Peterson,  and,  for  reasons 
of  their  own,  they  accepted  the  truth  of 
what  Johnson  had  told  them. 

"  It  may  be  a  forgery,"  cried  Max  Barlow, 
like  a  man  catching  at  a  straw. 

"  It  is  in  Ed's  writing ;   I'll  swear  to  that." 

"  He  would  not  be  so  base." 

"And  why  not?  Ain't  he  the  biggest 
drunkard  in  Jasper  county  ?  Ain't  he  a  mis- 
erable, shiftless  vagabond?" 

■' 'te 

never  become  a  murderer  of  his  own  friends 
and  neighbors." 

Barlow  spoke  with  warmth,  but  Sam 
Stiles  took  up  the  other  side  with  a  gloomy 
shake  of  his  head. 

"I  don't  blame  you  fur  wantin'  it  other- 
wise;; but  look  at  the  evidence.  Ed  knew  all 
our  plans,  an'  this  letter  tells  them  in  his 
own  writin'." 

"  Yes ;  and  why  did  he  refuse  to  come  with 
US  ?"  cried  still  another  man.  ' '  He  professed 
loyalty  to  the  Union,  and  swore  never  to 
touch  another  drop  of  liquor;  but  he  wa'n't 
at  all  rabid  to  march  out  and  face  the  dan- 
ger." 

"  He  always  was  a  sneak.  ' 

"  And  now  he's  a  traitor  and  murderer." 

"  A  drunkard  can't  be  trusted,  anyhow." 

These  and  similar  cries  arose  about  pooi' 
Barlow,  who  had  strong  reasons  for  wishing 
different  things  of  Edgar  Peterson;  but, 
though  his  men  seemed  on  the  eve  of  mu- 
tiny, and  their  looks  were  dark,  he  faced 
them  calmly. 

"  Friends  and  fellow  soldiers,"  he  said,  "1 
beseech  you  be  slow  in  condemning  him  ut- 
terly. I  acknowledge  that  his  past  life  has 
been  full  of  mistakes,  but  a  fortnight  ago  he 
took  a  solemn  oath  never  again  to  touch 
liquor,  and  I  believe  he  will  keep  that  now. 
I  honestly  think,  too,  that  his  heart  is  all  for 
the  Union.  Men,  I  have  been  of  good  cour- 
age of  late,  for  I  thought  he  was  sure  to  re- 
form. I  am  so  sure  of  it  now,  that  I  ask  you 
to  suspend  your  judgment  until  we  investi- 
gate." 

The  majority  of  the  men  were  affected  by 
this  appeal.  Their  anger  had  arisen  hot  anH 
blindly  against  Edgar  Peterson,  as  the  be- 
trayer of  their  brave  friends  who  fell  iu  the 
pass,  but  Barlow's  influence  was  still  strong. 
Little  opposition  was  made  to  his  will ;  many 
of  the  men  went  quietly  back  to  their  places, 
but  there  were  those  who  grumbled,  and 
still  thought  the  fatal  letter  a  wall  cf  evi- 
dence which  nothing  could  demolish 

And  who  was  Edgar  Peterson  ? 

A  resident  of  their  own  township,  and  a 
man  of  about  Barlow's  own  age;  a  man 
brave  in  his  way,  and  as  good  a  shot  as  could 
easily  be  found  in  Missouri.  In  their  former 
border  troubles  he  had  often  done  good  ser- 
vice, while  the  fact  that  courage  ran  in  the 
family  was  proved  when  an  elder  brotbsr 
went  with  Colonel  John  C.  Fremont  in  hia 
memorable  march  through  the  heart  of  th« 
continent  as  an  explorer. 


THE  WAR  LIBB,ARY. 


This  brother,  however,  had  died  in  I860. 

Edgar,  wilh  all  his  gifts  of  uature,  had  one 
fault  which  had  made  him  despised  by 
many,  and  pitied  by  those  who  would  have 
beeu  his  friends. 

He  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  reckless 
drmkiug  when  a  mere  boy,  and  during  the 
last  seven  years  his  life  had  been  one  tenible 
to  contemplate.  Strong  liquor  was  his  mas- 
ter, and,  as  Is  always  the  case,  it  was  a  mer- 
ciless one.  Poor  Edgar  went  down  hill  rap- 
Idly.  Going  from  bad  to  worse,  he  lost  all 
control  over  himself,  and  thought  of  nothing 
except  to  pour  the  demoralizing  fluid  down 
his  throat. 

True,  he  had  periods  of  struggling  agaiust 
his  master,  but  they  always  ended  in  the 
same  way. 

Even  the  women  and  children  came  to 
look  with  indifference  at  the  sight  of  Ed 
Peterson  staggering  through  the  streets,  or 
lying,  completely  intoxicated,  wherever  he 
chanced  to  fall. 

Well  might  he  be  spoken  of  as  "Poor  Ed!" 

Of  late  there  had  been  a  change,  and  Bar- 


Neai-  the  village  lived  two  sisters  whose 
names  were  Olive  and  Lena  Somers.  Barlow 
had  long  been  on  terms  of  intimacy  with 
them,  and  for  a  year  Olive  had  been  his  be- 
trothed. 

Of  late,  Edgar  Peterson  had  been  much  to 
the  house. 

People  saw  if,  and  woudcre.l  that  these 
two  girl>i.  ;n;aill^t  wlinuin.it  a  whisper  of 
reproach  liad  evt-r  Ihch  I ;iisc.l,  should  thus 
welcome  tlie  ilruuliard  ct  t)ie  towu. 

Blind  as  people  usually  are,  even  when 
they  think  they  know  all,  they  did  not 
suspect  that  Lena  had  turned  her  attention 
to  saving  Edgar;  they  did  not  suspect  that 
he  had  sworu  to  abandon  drinking,  or  that 
between  him  and  Lena  had  sprung  up  an  in- 
timacy which  was  worship  on  his  part,  and 
— well,  we  will  see  how  it  was  with  her. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  3£0B. 

The  small  but  beautiful  house  of  Abram 
Somers  looked  peaceful  and  inviting  enough 
to  attract  any  one,  as  it  nestled  near  the 
road  with  a  held  and  wood  at  the  rear;  and 
the  picture  was  made  doubly  inviting  as 
fair-faced  Lena  moved  about  to  perform  the 
last  duties  of  the  evening. 

Supper  had  beeu  eaten,  Abram  and  his 
elder  daughter  had  gone  to  the  village,  and 
Lena  was  left  alone  tor  the  time. 

We  have  said  that  she  was  fair-faced.  De- 
scriptions are  dull  reading,  but  let  us  pause 
to  say  that  this  girl  with  her  small  form, 
golden  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  sweet  but  intel- 
hgent  face  made  a  rare  picture  of  innocence. 

People  who  knew  her  always  had  good 
words  for  the  younger  daughter  of  Abram 
Somers. 

They  knew  her  to  be  pure,  tender-hearted, 
earnest  and  self-sacritloing  at  all  times.  This 
they  knew,  but  even  those  who  had  watched 
her  grow  from  childhood,  did  not  suspect 
the  depth,  strength  and  devotion  of  her 
woman's  heart. 

A  step  sounded  at  the  door  as  she  was  put- 
ting the  finishing  touch  to  her  work,  and 
she  turned  quickly. 

Then  a  slight  flush  arose  to  her  face. 

"Edgar!"  she  said,  softly. 

"Yes,  Lena,  it  is  I." 

And  then  the  man  who  had  entered,  moved 
forward  a  step  and  took  the  hand  she  ex- 
tended to  him. 

It  was  indeed  Edgar  Peterson,  the  man 
about  whom  the  interest  of  our  story  now 
centers. 

He  did  not  look  like  a  man  of  depravity. 
Young,  gifted  by  nature  with  a  fine  face  aiid 
form,  he  would  have  been  called  handsome 
by  any  one,  though  there  were  some  traces 
of  dissipation  still  visible  on  his  countenance. 

"Yes,  it  is  I,"  he  added,  smiling.  "I've 
come  back  to  you  in  my  right  mind,  and  I 
can  say  more :  Not  a  drop  of  liquor  have  I 
touched  since  I  went  away.  Lena,  those 
dark  days  are  past.  Your  love  has  drawn 
me  back  from  the  awful  gulf  where  I  trod 
so  long,  and,  by  the  help  of  Heaven,  I  will 
henceforth  be  a  man !" 

He  raised  one  hand  aloft  and  his  face  was 
full  of  a  resolution  and  glory  which  went 
straight  to  her  heart. 

"lam  so  glad,  Edgar!" 

Simple  words,  but  as  she  crept  to  his  arms 
there  was  a  peace  and  happmess  between 
them  which  passes  description. 

They  sat  down  together  on  the  old  lounge, 
and  their  words  soon  became  more  practical. 

' '  Have  you  heard  the  news  from  the  front  ?" 
he  asked. 


"They    tell    me   Sigel  fought 
bravely,     and   then    diew    back 
through  a  force  many  tinn's   his   own   nuni- 
ber." 

"So  he  did,  all  honor  t.j  him  and  liis  l)ravc 
men.  Lena,  you  should  liave  see!i  our  rol- 
onel.  Brave'Sigel !  he  is  a  king  among  men 
and  I  felt  like  kneeling  at  his  feet' 

"  You  were  there,  Edgar  ?" 

"So  I  was,  though  I  lietrayed  the  fact 
thoughtlessly.  Yes,  I  was  with  the  army, 
Jightinirasl.'esl  I  cnM." 

"  Willi  .Max  l:aih.w-sni,-n?" 

"Nil.  I  i\  islirii  (,,  hold  to  my  resolution 
to  redeem  niv  name  lieluiv  I  asked  to  flght 
among  my  nci-lihors,  and  not   a   sight   did 


"At  S|iriir;;liclii.  We  retreated  through 
Cartlui^e,  fiarci.xie  and  Mount  Vernon  to 
Springtield.  Tlieie  Sigel  hopes  to  soon  be 
joined  by  General  Lyon,  and  the  united 
bodies  will  oppose  Price,  MoCuUoch  and 
Jackson." 

"There  will  be  hard  fighting,"  sighed 
Lena. 

"  So  there  will ;  but,  at  all  costs,  the  Union 
must  be  preserved." 

An  hour  jiassed,  and  still  the  two  sat  in 

Despite  the  dark  war-clouds,  Lena  was 
very  happy. 

Peterson  looked  so  noble  and  manly  since 
he  had  thrown  off  the  miUstoue  of  intem- 
n  his  neck  that  sunshine 


ly  j  preserving  the  Union,  and  i 


alii 


trusting  him  so 
.vas  but  just  be- 
iman's  confidence 


fully,  forhisrefi 
gun,  but  she  had 
in  the  man  she  1 

In  the  midst  of  their  conversation  came  a 
sharp  knocking  at  the  door. 

They  started  from  thcii-  lovers'  position, 
but  neither  had  a  llamLdit  of  trouble,  and 
Lena  turned  toxvai.l  the  entrance  with  a 
composure  whicli  dieil  aw  a\-all  too  soon. 

She  opened  llic  dnei . 

Before  her  weie  a  score  ,il  men.  all  armed, 
and  with  a  fierceness  in  their  inanma- wlncli 
startled  her,  though  slic  reiotriiizcd  lliciii  as 
peopleof  the  village,  and  Sam  stihs  i\as  at 
their  head. 

"Good-eveuin',"  said  the  latter,  abruptly. 
"Is  Ed  Peterson  hyar?" 

The  question  came  so  quickly  and  sharply 
that  Lena  changed  color  in  perceptible  un- 
easiness; but  Edgar  pushed  forward  before 
she  could  answer. 

"  Yes,  Sam,  I  am  here,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"Glad  on't,  for  we  are  arter  you,"  said 
Stiles,  sourly. 

"  After  me  ?    And  what  is  wanted  ?" 

The  speaker  saw  that  every  face  bore  a 
scowl,  but  in  those  days  of  warfare  that  was 
not  -^ 


He  did  not  for  a  moment  suspect  that  any- 
thing was  wrong. 

Stiles  shifted  his  gaze  away  so  that  he 
would  not  meet  Lena's  close  regard. 

He  saw  that  she  was  frightened,  and  he 
had  enough  manhood  to  respect  her  feelings. 

"The  boys  are  goiii'  to  have  a  war-meeting, 
an'  we  want  everybody  there.  Max  Barlow 
said  he  reckoned  you  was  hyar,  so  we  come 
to  ask  you  ter  go  with  us." 

Styles  was  lying,  but  he  did  it  like  one  ac- 
customed to  the  business. 

"  Of  course  I  will  go.  Wait  until  I  get  my 
rifle  and  1  am  with  vou."  '' 

Edgar  stepped  back  into  the  house,  and 
then  Lena  caught  his  arm. 

"Oh,  Edgar!"  she  said,  nervously,  "1  fear 
—I  fear " 

"  What?"  he  asked,  in  surprise. 

"  I  fear  those  men  mean  you  harm.  Did 
you  see  how  they  scowled  at  you  V  Sam 
Stiles  was  never  your  friend,  and  I  fear  he 
has  not  told  the  truth  now." 

"ludeed  Lena,  you  are  mistaken.  Their 
scowls  are  only  shadows  of  the  war,  and 
though  Sam  and  I  have  never  been  friends, 
this  crisis  erases  all  little  troubles  of  the  past. 
Besides,  he  is  one  of  Barlow's  men." 

"  Still,  I  wish  you  would  not  go.  I  shall 
not  feel  easy,  for  I  cannot  rid  myself  of  the 
impression  that  they  mean  you  harm.  Re- 
main here,  Edgar,  and  only  go  to  their  meet- 
ing when  you  have  Max  Barlow  to  assist 
you." 

It  was  a  woman's  appeal,  based  on  a  wom- 
an's fears,  but  Edgar  only  kissed  her  trem- 
bling lips. 

Surely,  his  old  friends  and  neighbors  could 
mean  him  no  harm. 

He  and  they  had  joined  hands    to    aid    in 


lis  lie  explained,  holding  her  hand, 
en  she  saw  how  anxious  he  was  to 
eriii    uiMid    spirits,  she   managed    to 

id  .i:iiiid-liy  and  they  parted. 
idsaidtliat  lie  would  see  her  again 
eiiin-,  but  the  future  was  concealed 

in,-d  tlc'iii.  rille  in  hand,  tidl  into  line 
■^tiii-.  and  away  -vv.-nt  Ihi-  wliole  body 


iiions,  and 
and   kept 


lie    iia 

1     llltelvd 

a  p 

aimed   si-iial,  and  at 

the  won 
suddenly 

liv  ll'i.'-ai 
'Disarn 

Olio   ot    (1 

snatoliod 
■d  iiiid'iii' 

■St. 
lie 

loll   liehiiid   Peterson 
rille   iroiii    his  grasp, 
«o  others  seized  him 
od  a  prisoner, 
raj.,  liosl. Hid  quietly, 
liter  amazement 
11/'    he  asked. 

"■■  ^v'h'at 

ii/.l'-Vhi'.,' 

lie: 

■■  So  y, 

1  doni  ki 

.w 

■   snorted  Stiles,  his 

i"ll!I!'''l''t 

t    Ol vll 

v'f 

■'rHi:"^o^^y?u^^ln^? 

guess  wll 

I't  it'  nie'ai 

s. 

an   you?    Y'ou  'ain't 

done  no 

hill-    wroi 

ev   ye?    You  are  an 

angel  in 

uf'HmrJI 

nt 

Tlie  in 

t    his  bitter  sarcasm 

with  a  v 

tauniTwh 

ell 

dumfounded   Edgar, 

but  he  s 

ill   stood 

lui 

•tly   and   proved    his 

remarkal. 

ec 

"  I  am 

wholly  at 

fa 

lit.     ir   this  is  a  ioke, 

count  me 

in  to  carr 

y  i 

on;  I   don't    like  to 

spoil  any  man's  pie 

ISUI 

e.     But,  boys,  if  you 

are  think 

mgme  a 

ninal  of  aiiy   kind,  I 

am  without  a  clew 

0  r 

"How 

about  the  m 

en 'who""  fell-  in    the 

pass?" 

"Ihav 

•  neard  of 

th: 

t  tragedy,  but  i  was 

1m1  I'l-lersoii,  you  were  not  so  careful  of  the 
men  who  had  beeu  your  neighbors." 

"  I  am  still  in  the  dark " 

"  Come  inter  the  light ;  come  inter  a  blaze 
that  shall  show  you  up  as  you  are.  Read 
that,  will  you?" 

The  prisoner's  hands  were  still  held  tightly. 


did  read,  and   the  words  almost  paralyzed 
him. 

The  note  Avas  the  one  read  by  Max  Barlow 
in  the  camp  at  Sarcoxie;  the  one  purport- 
ing to  be  from  Edgar  Peterson,  to  some  one 
who  had  afterward  laid  the  ambush  tor  the 
Unionists,  acting  on  the  information  con- 
tained in  the  note. 

Edgar  read  ;  and,  as  he  finished,  a  look  of 
horror  was  on  his  face;  but  it  quickly  gave 
place  to  indignation. 

"  What  base  forgery  is  this?"  he  demanded. 
"Who  ilaios  to  sign  my  name  to  such  an  in- 
famous loiter?" 

"  It  J.-,  ill  your  writing." 

"Slill  It  IS  a  forgery.  Sam  Stiles.  Abe 
Taylor— what  do  you  know  of  the  matter? 
Are  you  joking  or " 

"That  letter,  Ed,  was  found  on  the  body 
of  the  man  who  commanded  the  ambushers 
at  the  pass,"  said  Abe  Taylor,  gi-avely. 

Then  the  whole businessflaslied  upon  Peter- 
son. The  Barlow  squad  had  1  >een  ambushed 
by  means  of  information  contained  in  that 
note,  and  not   only  was    it   signed  bj-  his 


own  that  it  might  have  gone  safely  through 
a  court  of  law. 

All  this  he  saw,  and  plain  it  was,  too,  that 
deadly   passions  and    danger   for  him  had 


not  wonder  that  yon  look  at  me  darkly,  but 
I  swear  by  all  I  hold  sacred  that  I  never  saw 
that  paper  until  to-night." 

CHAPTER  VI. 

KEELEK'S     BAND. 

A  hoarse  murmur  arose  from  the  crowa, 
and  then  excited  exclamations  followed 
which  were  none  too  choice  in  their  word- 
ing. 

"But how  do  you  explain  it?"  asked  Abe 
Taylor,  who  seemed  to  be  the  coolest  man 
there. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


"  Simply  by  saying  that  it  is  a  forgery.  My 
hand  never  penned  those  words,  nor  do  I 
know  their  author.  I  swear  it.  How  it  was 
done,  I  cannot  guess,  but  I  do  see  in  this  that 
I  have  an  enemy  somewhere,  who  purposely 
imitated  my  writing  and  signed  my  name  ta 
that  infamous  paper.  But,  friends,  he  over- 
stepped himself  in  one  partieular.  You  see 
that  the  wording  of  the  note  is  somewhat 
vague,  while  tlie  identity  of  the  man  ad- 
dressed is  concealed  imder  a  maslf.  Who  is 
'A.  B.?'  I,  for  oue,  cannot  imagine.  But. 
friends,  amid  all  this  vagueness,  one  name 
stands  out  plain  and  clear— my  own." 
"  What  of  that  ?"  snapped  Stiles. 
"Simply  this :  The  forger  there  gives  him- 
self away.  If  there  had  been  no  trick  in  the 
matter,  the  name  would  be  hidden  lilse  the 
remainder  of  the  note;  it  would  be  vague, 
like  the  name  of  the  man  addressed.  There, 
I  say,  the  forger  betrays  his  plot.  My  name 
was  written  there,  so  Sistinotly,  simply  for 
the  purpose  of  ruinmgme." 

He  had  made  a  strong  argument,  and, 
coupled  with  his  bold  and  persuasive  ad- 
dress, it  touched  some  of  the  men ;  but  Stiles 
broke  down  the  barrier  by  an  unbelieving 
retort,  and  again  the  murmur  swelled  among 
the  men. 

"  You  can't  lie  out  of  it;  yourown  writing 
betrays  you."  said  Stiles,  savagely.    "Boys, 
what  is  the  verdict?" 
"Guilty!" 
"Kill  the  traitor!" 
"Hang  him!" 

These  .shouts  arose  fiercely,  but  half  the 
men  did  not  jciiii  in  thf  hueaud  cry. 

They  ^vii-.'  all  of  r.:[ilow's  command;  they 
inteu(ieil  lo  do  wlial  was  right,  and  though 
Peterson's  past  was  against  him,  and  the 
evideuri'  in  the  \iicscnt  case  terribly  strong, 
Abe  Taylor  was  alioutto  raise  his  voice  in 
favor  of  (Iclav  and  an  investigation. 
He  was  too  lalo.  however. 
At  the  last  »or<ls  from  the  more  rabid  of 
the  crowd,  they  rushed  upon  the  prisoner, 
and  a  rope  was"  cast  over  his  neck. 

Murder  flamed  in  their  faces,  and  their  as- 
pect was  terrible. 

Edgar  saw  his  peril,  and  was  not  disposed 
to  meet  it  tamely. 

He  flimg  out  fiis  strong  arms  and  two  of 
his  foes  went  down. 

His  eyes  were  full  of  battle-flre,  and,  with 
anything  like  a  chance,  he  would  have 
cleared  a  way  through  them. 

Unluckily,  however,  the  rope  was  aliout 
his  neck,  aud  wlien  a  sudden  jerk  cast  him 
to  the  grouud,  liis  enemies  piled  upon  him 
like  curs  ujiou  a  hai]i|"i  cil  panther. 

After  that,  tlio  oimI  w  as  si ion  reached.  De- 
spite Ills  .-trUL;;jlos,  ho  was  soon  Subdued, 
and  with  hi--  hainl.-  liound  hi-hind  his  back, 
and  the  rupe  aroiiiiil  liis  neck,  he  was  drag- 
ged under  a  spreading  tree. 

Abe  Taylor  tried  to  interfere,  but  they 
pushed  him  back,  and  the  loose  end  of  the 
rope  was  cast  over  the  lower  branch  of  the 
tree. 

Edgar  had  ceased  to  struggle.  He  believed 
that  his  end  was  near,  but  not  a  sign  of 
craven  fear  was  visible. 

Proud  and  erect  as  though  on  a  conquer- 
or's throne,  he  stood  among  his  destroyers, 
and  looked  them  calmly  in  the  face. 

He  could  die,  if  need  be,  but  not  as  a 
coward. 

One  moment,  as  he  thought  of  Lena,  his 
gaze  wavered,   but   the   emotion  was   soon 
past. 
"Up  with  him!" 

The  command  cmric  from  ,Saip  Stiles,  and 
as  he  spoko,  tlio  iiicu  at  the  rope  obeved. 
They  pull. Ml  sliarplv,  Fd-ai-  was  liffod  clear 
of  the  ground,  aiid'thou  hung  dangling  and 
struggling,  a  terrible  sight,  in  mid-air. 
"Tie  the  rope  to  yonder  saplin'." 
Stiles  spoke  without  a  trace  of  feeling,  and 
the  order  was  obeved. 

Then  all  stepped  back  to  view  the  awful 
scene  before  Ihein— flie  lawless  hurrjnng  of 
a  human  soul  l.iofoi  e  its  Maker. 
Brief  was  the  view  -h  an  thoin. 
There    was   a   <rasiiin.L;    in    the  bushes,  a 
shout  of  command,  and  as  they  turned  to 
see  the  cause,  a  baud  of   horsemen  in  Con- 
federate gray  swept  into  sight,  their  naked 
sabers  flashing  as  the  last  beams  of  the  de- 
scending sun  fell  on  the  polished  blades. 
"Guerrillas!" 
"  Keeler's  band !" 
"  The  Jasper  Centaurs !" 
Such  were  the  exclamations  that  fell  from 
the  dismayed  Unionists— dismayed,  for  they 
were  outnumbered,  and  they  knew  the  way 
of  Keeler's  band  all  too  well. 

A  detachment  of  irregular  soldiers — plun- 
derers would  be  abetter  word— formed  from 
the  lowest  of  the  men  of  their  own  and  sur- 
rounding towns,  and  led    \i\  ono  Ko.-Ihi-.  of 


the  vicinity,  they  had  for  some  time  been 
scouring  the  country,  with  saber  and  torch 
as  their  tools  of  trade. 

Wearing  Confederate  gray,  and  professing 
to  be  fighting  for  the  Southern  cause,  they 
had  used  no  discrimination  in  their  work, 
but  had  robbed  and  outraged  with  utter 
disregard  of  political  inclinations. 

Seeing  this  dreaded  band,  the  Unionists 
stood  not  upon  the  manner  of  their  going,  but 
took  to  headlong  flight. 

Through  the  bushes  went  each  and  every 
man,  fleeing  for  dear  life,  and  in  their  rear 
chased  tlie  guerrillas. 

Under  the  swaying  figure  of  poor  Peterson 
went  Keeler's  band,  giving  heed  only  to  the 
fugitives;  and  the  pm-suit  became  warm. 

The  Unionists  aimed  to  reach  the  village, 


cover  Willi  a  l.iuidred  vanls  advantaiio. 

Before  tliuni  lay  a  level  held,  and,  beyond 
that,  tlie  village ;  and  when  the  .lasper  Cen- 
taurs broke  from  the  trees  a  race  for  life 
began. 

The  fugitives  ran  as  they  had  never  run 


befo 


:ped 


ho,l  lio..ts  of  their 
spiuuiug  into  the  air 
irv   minute  saw  the 


he  fugi- 
darted 
where 


danger  menaced  the  town. 


them  when  they  were  on  their  raids.  Now, 
they  were  going  straight  for  the  heart  of  the 
town,  aud  tliat  meant  the  old  story  of  the 
saber  and  torch. 

Faster  than  the  stride  of  their  horses,  had 
gone  the  tidings  of  their  coming.  Max  Bar- 
low, home  for  a  little  while  with  his  men,  to 
make  final  airangenieiits  there  Ijefore  for- 
mally joining  Nigel's  army,  heard  the  news 
and  rushed  cnit  with  tlie  others  to  see  and 
do,  if  .anything  could  be  done. 

Confusiou  reigned  everywhere;  for  all 
dreaded  the  iron  hand  of  the  Jasper  Cen- 
taurs, l)ut  Ma.x  Barlow's  courage  arose  equal 
to  the  occasion. 

He  shouted  to  his  men,  and  they  fell  into 
line. 

"Stand  firm,  all!"  he  said.  "Remember 
we  fight  for  our  homes  and  women,  and  for 
precious  lives.  Let  us  give  Keeler  a  lesson 
he  will  not  soon  forget." 

A  cheer  arose  from  his  followers,  and  the 
bravest  of  the  women  wared  their  handker- 
chiefs. 

Max  acted  quickly  but  systematically. 
Among  the  others,  were  a  score  of  old  men 
and  boys  whose  hearts  were  stoutei-  than 
their  bodies. 

These  he  directed  to  take  cover  behind  the 

ouses;  and,  at  the  proper  m 
in  their  shots  thick  aud  fast. 

With  his  own  immediate  command  he  in- 
tended to  fight  in  a  different  way.  If  the 
guerrillas  were  allowed  to  entir  the  town, 
more  or  less  destruction  nnist  follow.  They 
must  be  stayed  at  the  lii  St.  itpo?-il.le. 

Acting  on  this  idea,  i'.arlow  hurried  liis 
men  to  the  eastern  side  of  the  village.  Com- 
ing at  full  speed,  they  saw  the  Jasper  Cen- 
taurs close  at  hand. 

Barlow  gave  a  few  rapid  ordei-a  and  the 
reception  committee  was  ready. 

On  came  the  horsemen  with  wild  yells, 
and  their  horses'  feet  soon  rang  on  the  hard 
soil  of  the  street. 

They  saw  the  Unionists,  but  they  saw, 
too,  that  the  force  was  inferior  in  point  of 
numbers  to  their  own,  and  they  yelled  again 
as  they  imagined  how  they  would  sweep 
them  away. 

Barlow  glanced  at  his  men.  They  were 
standing  like  rocks ;  no  fear  that  they  would 
fail  him. 

"Fire!" 

His  command  rang  out  clearly,  and  like 
an  echo  came  the  flash  and  report  of  the 
Union  weapons. 

It  was  a  destr 
rillas.  Many  a  yelling  rider  f'ound.his  breath 


sped  on  its  way. 

Despite  this,"the  advance  was  not  stayed. 
Still  dashed  the  Centaurs  toward  their  foes, 
their  sabers  raised  on  high,  and  it  looked  as 
thousli  thcv  w  ,,uhl  v.'t  win  the  dav. 


Barlow  thought  differently.  Since  his 
march  with  Sigel,  he  had  succeeded  in  get- 
ting good  muskets  for  all  his  men,  and  each 
one  was  provided  with  a  bayonet. 

Thus  it,  was  that  the  guerrillas,  in  the 
midst  of  their  expected  triunaph,  saw  the 
line  of  Unionists  sink  upon  oue  knee  aud 
present  a  long  array  of  glittering  steel; 
while,  at  the  same  moment,  the  invalid 
corps,  as  the  boys  and  old  men  may  be 
called,  began  to  blaze  away  on  each  flank. 

To  ride  a  horse  against  an  unarmed  foe  is 
one  thing,  but  to  urge  him  against  a  bay- 
onet is  a  decidedly  different  matter ;  and,  as 
the  Centaurs  saw  this  bold  front,  they  hesi- 
tated perceptibly. 

Keeler,  however,  was  a  man  not  easily 
frightened,  nor  was  he  inclined  to  estimate 


sounds: 

"On,  Centaurs,  on  I  Look  your  enemy  in 
the  eyes,  and  hit  them  hard.  Strike  for  the 
Confederacy!" 

His  words  revived  the  ebbing  courage  of 
the  guerrillas;  they  pressed  on,  crossed  the 
intervening  space  and  met  the  bayonets. 

As  short  a  time  as  they  had  been  iu  the 
field,  Keeler  had  taught  them  many  a  trick 
of  war;  and,  when  their  horses'  breasts 
seemed  about  to  be  pierced,  tliey  bent  for- 
ward and  tried  to  turn  the  bayonets  aside 
with  their  sabers. 

In  many  cases  they  succeeded,  but  in 
others  it  was  quite  the  reverse,  and  the  war 
steeds  began  to  bound  and  scream  loudly 
as  they  were  cut  through  skiu  and  flesh. 

Then  all  was  confusion.  The  Union  line 
became  broken,  and  sabers  began  to  ring 
against  rifle  barrels  and  opposing  blades; 
men  grappled  hand  to  hand ;  shouts  and 
curses  broke  out  in  every  key ;  and  above 
all  sounded  that  most  terrible  sound  of  bat- 
tle— the  scream  of  wounded  horses. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ADVENURE. 


Max  Barlow  was  fighting  Uke  a  tiger.  He 
had  dear  ones  to  battle  for — a  mother 
and  sister  in  the  village,  as  many  others  had, 
and  the  men  looked  to  him  for  example.  He 
knew  this,  and  wielded  his  sword  with  great 
skill  aud  execution. 

As  he  fought,  he  saw  that  his  followers 
were  holding  the  guerrillas  in  check. 


Already  many  gray-uniformed  men  were 
"  '  lying  side  by  side  with  dead 

horses  ;  and  the  Unionists  fought  with  grim 


detei-minatiou,   which   was  encouraging  to 
their  leader. 

Wherever  the  guerrillas  galloped,  a  bay- 
onet, already  red  with  Coufeilerate  Idood, 
seemed  sure  to  appear,  and  thiir  advuutage 
of  being  mounted  did  not  avail   tlioni  inueh. 

Barlow  tried  in  vain  to  roaoh  Keiler.  A 
swordsman  of  great  ability,  he  would  glad- 
ly have  crossed  hlailos  with  tlie  rival  chief  ; 
l)ut  it  T>-as  not  so  to  ho.  Either  through  de- 
sign or  ehaiici-  Koilor  kept  out  of  the  way. 

For  some  siine  flic  liglit  went  on,  but  the 
leader  of  the  Centaurs  clearly  per(^eived  that 
his  baud  was  being  roughly  hamllcd.  Too 
many  were  falling  to  maki-  amonds  ibr  pos- 
sible plunder,  aud  he  resolyod  til  withdraw 
while  he  could,  and  come  again  wlieii  the 
village  was  not  so  well  defended. 

One  thing  he  aspired  to  do,  however,  be- 
fore lie  went.  If  he  could  capture  the  Union 
raptain  it  would  be  a  creditable  e-xploit,  and 
would  iu  a  degree  make  amends  for  the  gen- 
eral defeat. 

He  called  to  two  of  his  men,  and  the  three 
precipitated  themselves  together  upon 
Barlow. 

The  latter  was  glad  to  see  Keeler,  and  tried 
to  get  at  him,  but  one  of  the  men  caught  his 
sword-arm  and  clung  like  a  mastiff. 

Another  moment  aud  Ma.x  was  lifted  clea' 
off  the  ground  and  laid  across  Keeler's  horst 
just  in  front  of  the  rider.  With  such  odds 
struggles  availed  nothing,  and  a  cord  was 
wound  around  his  hands. 

"  Be  quiet,  now,  or  I  will  shoot !"  Keeler 
sharply  said.  Then,  raising  his  voice,  he 
shouted  a  brief  command  to  his  men. 

They  heard  it  with  joy,  aud  obeyed 
promptly. 

It  was  an  order  for  retreat ;  and  at  the 
word  the  Jasper  Centaurs  shook  off  their  foes, 
wheeled  and  dashed  away  from  the  scene  of 
strife,  followed  by  a  few  stray  bullets. 

The  villagers  had  won  the  battle;  the 
guerrillas  had  received  a  disastrous  check, 
and,  as  they  fled  in  haste,  the  Union  cheers 
caused  them  to  curse  in  concert — but  Max 
Barlow  was  a  prisoner ! 

He  lay  across  the  back  of  Keeler's  horse  in 
:i:i  niuomfortable  position,  his  feet  hanging 


THE  WAK  LIBRARY. 


off  one  side  and  his  head  the  other.  This 
fact,  however,  gave  him  an  idea. 

He  looked  keenly  about,  and,  seeing  that 
all  was  favorable  if  the  first  step  could  be 
taken,  proceeded  to  try  the  cords  on  his 
hands. 

They  had  been  hastily  applied,  and  he  had 
cunningly  held  his  wrists  a  little  apart  when 
being  bound.  Now,  he  found  by  experiment- 
ing, they  were  in  a  condition  to  be  easily 
cast  off. 

His  scheme  of  escape  was  a  desperate  one ; 
but  he  had  no  desire  to  become  a  captive  of 
the  baud,  and  if  he  moved  at  all  it  must  be 
promptly. 

He  twisted  his  hands  about  stealthily,  and 
the  cords  fell  off. 

So  far  all  was  well. 

Then ,  without  stirring  his  body,  he  reached 
down  and  laid  hold  of  the  saddle-girth.  He 
wished  to  unbuckle  it,  but  it  had  been  drawn 
so  tightly  that  he  almost  abandoned  hope,  as 
his  flugers  encountered  the  taut  strap. 

"It's  do  or  die;  I  must  unbuckle  it!"  he 
muttered. 

So  he  put  forth  all  of  his  strength,  tight- 
ened the  girth  still  more,  loosened  the  buckle 
and  slowly  drew  it  through  the  longer  end 
of  the  strap. 

Thus  far,  all  was  well. 

Keeler  sat  on  a  saddle  which  could  easily 
be  thrown  off,  and  Max  had  his  hands  to 
himself. 

They  were   well  at  the  front,  too,  for  the 

fuerriUa  chief  rode  a  horse  remarkal)le  for 
is  speed— even  then  he  was  holding  him  in 
to  avoid  distancing  his  followers— and  all 
seemed  ripe  for  "'  ' 


position  with  surprising  agility,  aud,  as  the 
surprised  guerrilla  raised  his  hand  to  strike 
him,  he  received  a  push  which  swept  him  to 
one  side. 

Never  suspecting  that  the  girth  had  been 
tampered  with,  Keeler  tried  only  to  hang 
fast  to  the  saddle. 

In  this  attempt  he  succeeded  only  too  well 
for  his  own  good. 

He  hung  to  the  saddle,  but  the  saddle  did 
not  hang  to  the  horse.  lustead,  it  went  off 
as  though  greased,  and,  accompanied  by 
Keeler,  fell  crashing  to  the  ground. 

Barlow  barely  saved  himself  from  the 
same  fate.  He  caught  at  the  horse's  mane, 
however,  and,  being  a  good  rider,  succeeded 
In  holaing  fast.  Then  he  grasped  at  the 
bridle-rein  aud  was  safe  in  position. 

This  little  event  had  excited  the  horse  into 
a  mad  gallop  ;  aud,  looking  back,  as  he  shot 
rapidly  away.  Max  saw  the  discomfited 
guerrilla  just  regaining  his  feet  and  pouring 
out  a  torrent  of  curses  and  orders  to  the  men. 

Max  shouted  triumphantly,  waved  one 
hand  in  farewell  to  the  men  who  had  had  no 
bullets  to  annoy  him,  and  theu  the  interven- 
ing space  rapid'ly  widened 


ig  space  rapuuy  wiUeuecl. 
The  Unionist  had  heard  much  about  the 
speed  of  Knt'ler's  horse,  but  uever  Ijefore 
had  he  tlmuiilit  that  it  would  ever  be  used  to 
hisbeuelit;  ;uid  he  ftlt  a  natural  triumph, 
mingled  with  jnv  at  his  own  escape,  as  he 
left  the  guen  illa.-i  behind. 

Pursuit  was  made,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
but  it  was  like  chasing  the  wind,  aud  in  the 
rapidly  gathering  shades  of  night,  the  hos- 
tile riders  were  soon  lost  to  each  other's 
sight. 


Somewhat  later,  he  saw  the  guerrillas  pass 
on  his  right  hand,  but  they  were  too  distaut 
to  be  observed  closely,  and  when  they  were 
gone  he  resumed  his  way. 

His  course  carried  him  to  the  very  wood 
where  Keder's  band  had  first  struck    "' 


Taylor  and  Dave  Harney  come  out  and  stand 
in  his  path. 

"  How  de  do,  cap'n,"  said  the  latter,  in  a 
manner  which  showed  that  he  knew  noth- 
ing of  Barlow's  brief  captivity.  "  Is  all  quiet 
at  the  village?" 

"  I  suppose  so ;  why  not  ?  What  are  doing 
here,  Dave?" 

Harney  wiped  his  forehead  with  his  sleeve 
to  a  nervous  manner. 

"Ain't you  heered  what  happened  hyar 
to-night?"  he  asked,  in  a  manner  equally 
nervous. 

"No.    What  do  you  mean ?" 

♦'Abe— you  tell." 

"No,"  said  Taylor,  curtly.  "I  ain't  a 
coward,  an'  I'll  face  the  music  ;  but  you 
agreed  ter  tell  the  story." 


Dave  told  the  captain  all  that  had  trans- 
pired. 

"  What  can  we  do  ?"  Dave  asked. 

"Search!"  was  the  terse  reply.  "Abe 
Taylor,  if  you  had  the  honor  of  being  one  of 
the  lynchers,  go  over  the  ground  again  and 
look  for  a  clew." 

It  was  done,  but  nothing  came  of  it.  Ed- 
gar Peterson,  dead  or  alive,  had  disappeared 
as  completely  as  though  buried,  and  the 
lynchers'  rope  was  also  beyond  their  sight. 

Abe  had  made  a  full  explanation  of  the 
tragic  affair,  and  Barlow  decided  that  it 
must  be  the  guerrillas  had  returned  and  cut 
down  the  victim— or  it  might  be  some  strag- 


The  possibility  that  Edgar  might  be  alive 
and  at  the  Somers'  cottage,  caused  Barlow 
to  go  there  on  a  feigned  errand.  He  saw 
both  Olive  and  Lena,  and  when  he  inquired 
for  Edgar,  Lena  told  how  he  had  gone  to  the 
village  with  the  other  men. 

She  was  calm  in  her  mein,  and,  satisfied 
that  she  knew  nothing  of  the  tragedy,  he 
rejoined  Harney  and  Taylor,  and  the  three 
went  to  the  village.  Barlow  retaining  the 
captured  horse. 

His  anger  against  Sam  Stiles  was  at  white 
heat,  and  he  at  once  sought  for  that  person. 
In  vain,  however,  for  Stiles  had  disappeared 
as  completely  as  Edgar  had  done. 

The  captain  devoted  all  his  attention  to 
earing  for  those  wounded  in  the  fight  with 
the  Jasper  Centaurs,  but  his  mind  was  al- 
ways on  the  lynchers'  victim.  He  felt  so 
sure  that  he  had  been  on  the  road  to  re- 
formation and  honor  that  it  seemed  a  terri- 
ble thing  for  him  to  be  thus  cut  off  at  the 
beginning  of  his  brighter  career. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

"THE  PATHFIXDER." 

Barlow  expected  to  solve  the  mystery  of 
Edgar's  disappearance  on  the  following 
morning,  but  in  this  he  was  disappointed. 
Edgar  did  not  appear,  and  all  attempts  to 
solve  the  mistery  of  the  gallows-tree  were 
futile. 

The  ground  in  the  vicinity  was  plowed  up 
by  the  hoofs  of  Keeler's  cavalry,  and  even 
Dave  Harney,  who  was  a  skillful  trailer, 
failed  to  And  anything  bearing  on  a  solution 
of  the  mystery. 

The  captain  was  very  much  perplexed. 
The  great  question  in  his  mind  was  whether 
Peterson  was  dead  or  alive.  If  the  latter,  he 
seemed  to  have  tied  from  the  neighborhood; 
if  the  lormer,  what  had  become  of  his  body  ? 

Mature  retlection  convinced  Barlow  that 
he  had  not  been  cut  down  by  the  guerrillas. 
It  they  had  done  the  work,  it  was  not  likely 
they  would  have  carried  oft  the  rope.  Some 
of  the  victim's  enemies  suggested  that  he 
might  even  then  be  riding  with  Keeler's 
band,  but  there  was  no  proof  in  support  of 
the  theory,  and  Max  did  not  for  a  moment 
believe  in  it. 

The  news  of  the  hanging  went  abroad,  and 
reached  the  ears  of  Lena  Somers  and  her 
friends.  The  former  wept  bitterly,  and  be- 
sought Barlow  to  solve  the  mystery,  but  he 
could  not  gain  any  clew. 

Days  went  on,  and  the  mystery  remained 
as  deep  as  ever.  Edgar  Peterson  was  seen 
no  more  in  the  town,  and  people  came  to 
speak  of  him  as  one  dead. 

Barlow  saw  that  Lena  was  grieving  deep- 
ly. She  seemed  to  have  forgotten  how  to 
smile;  and  the  captain  longed  to  get  his 
hands  on  the  man  who  had  started  the 
lynchers. 

Sam  Stiles,  however,  was  seen  no  more 
about  the  place. 

During  the  weeks  that  followed.  Barlow 
led  his  men  on  many  dashes  against  the 
Confederates.  At  times  he  lost  men,  but 
the  vacancies  were  quickly  filled,  and  the 
band  was  making  for  itsett  a  name  through- 
out all  Missouri. 

Somehow,  he  could  never  encounter  Keel- 
er's guerrillas,  much  as  he  desired  it.  That 
active  chief  was  like  a  will-o'-the-wisp;  and, 
despite  his  superiority  of  numbers,  he  seem- 
ed reluctant  to  meet  the  man  who  was 
riding  his  horse  all  along  the  Ozark  district. 

It  may  be  mentioned  here  that,  acting  on 
a  hint  from  his  superiors,  Keeler  had  learned 
to  discriminate  between  friend  and  foe,  and 
he  was  more  of  a  soldier  and  less  of  a  com- 
mon robber  than  when  he  first  took  to  the 
saddle. 

Still,  he  was  wild  and  lawless  in  his  wav, 
and,  between  his  force  and  others  of  the 
same  kind,  Missouri  was  sadly  scourged  by 
irregular  bands. 

Many  of  these  were  without  uniforms,  aud, 
dressed  in  home-made,  butternut-colored 
suits,  and  armed  in  every  conceivable  fash- 


ion—they made  anything  but  dashing  look- 
ing defenders  of  a  growing  cause. 

Toward  the  last  of  July,  occurred  two 
events  which  produced  a  material  change  in 
Barlow's  plans.  The  first  came  when  the 
band,  acting  in  concert  with  another,  was 
attacked  by  a  superior  force  of  Confeder- 
ates and  nearly  annihilated ;  and  the  second 
may  be  learned  from  a  conversation  be- 
tween Barlow  and  Dave  Harney  the  follow- 
ing morning. 

''How  many  men  are  fit  for  duty,  Dave?" 

"  About  twenty,  cap'n." 

"  Ah !  that  was  a  fatal  fight.  I  warned  the 
major,  but  he  would  have  his  own  way. 
Now  our  band  is  cut  all  in  pieces." 

"They  died  facin'  the  inemy." 

"They  died  nobly,  but  they  are  lost  to  the 
Union." 

"  And,  cap'n " 

"What?" 

"The  rest  say  they  are  sick  of  irregular 
war.  They  want  ter  jine  the  army,  an'  they 
are  lookiu'  toward  Giueral  Lyon  with 
greedy  eyes." 

"Let  them  go;  I  am  glad  of  it.  Dave,  I, 
too,  am  sick  of  this  life.  Relying  ou  our- 
selves for  resources,  we  have  to  plunder  too 
much  to  suit  me.  To-day  I  will  disband  the 
troop,  and  then  I  am  off  for  St.  Louis." 

"What  for?"  Dave  asked,  in  amazement. 

"To  offer  my  services  to  General  Fremont. 
You  know  I  told  you  yesterday  that  he  had 
been  appointed  to  the  command  of  the 
Western  Department.  Dave,  I  had  lather 
serve  under  that  man  than  any  other  in  this 
country.  He  is  a  hero,  if  one  ever  lived. 
Remember  how  he  led  that  gallant  baud  of 
adventurers  through  the  ice  aud  snow  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  They  suffered  fearfully, 
but  the  pathfinder's  brave  heart  never 
quailed." 

"  He's  a  man  o'  a  kind  I  like.  None  o'  your 
carpet  soldiers  fur  me.  John  C.  Fremont 
has  Ijeen  a  man  araoug  men,  an'  when  he 
gets  soldiers  an'  weepous  he  will  cut  his 
bigness  right  through  Missouri.  But,  Lord 
bless  you,  he  ain't  got  the  material  now.  He 
lacks  men  and  guns,  big  an'  leetle,  an'  I 
reckon  he  won't  find  money  plenty  ter  pay 
his  volunteers." 

"  He  will  be  crippled  until  he  gets  them  ; 
but  to  the  soldier-explorer  I  am  going.  I  cast 
my  fortunes  with  his,  if  he  will  have  me." 

So  that  day  Max  Barlow  bade  farewell  to 
his  band,  made  a  last  visit  to  Olive  and  Lena 
Somers  and  started  for  St.  Louis,  where  he 
arrived  on  the  last  day  of  July. 

John  C.  Fremont,  who  had  won  such  de- 
served honor  in  the  West  by  crossing  the 
Rocky  Mountains  with  a  band  of  gallant  ex- 
plorers—an exploit  which  will  live  in  the 
history  of  our  country  as  long  as  the  repub- 
lic is  mentioned  among  men  —  had  been 
S laced  in  charge  of  the  department  in  which 
[issouri  was  contained,  with  his  headquar- 
ters at  St.  Louis. 

His  work  began  under  discouraging  cir- 
cumstances. 

The  three-months  men  were  leaving  the 
service,  and  money  was  lacking  to  pay  new 
recruits. 

His  cannon  were  to  be  sent  from  Wash- 
ington—but they  went  to  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac— and  the  brave  Pathfinder  was  be- 
set on  all  sides  by  trouble  and  embarrass- 
ment. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  affairs  when 
Max  Barlow  arrived  in  St.  Louis. 

By  chance  he  had  a  view  of  the  Pathfinder 
sooner  than  he  had  expected. 

Standinp  in  the  street,  he  saw  the  brave 
explorernde  past,  accompanied  by  Adjutant- 
General  Harding  and  others,  and  Max  Uf  ted 
his  voice  to  join  with  those  who  cheered  the 
riders. 

"  It's  a  proper  good  sight,  ain't  it?"  said  a 
voice  at  his  elbow. 

Barlow  wheeled,  and  then  put  out  his  hand 
as  he  saw  the  well-remembered  face  of 
Sharpshot,  the  scout. 

"You  here'?"  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  should  remark  that  I  am.  I'm  most  al- 
ways 'round  somewhar,"  said  the  sharp- 
shooter. 

"  I  have  not  seen  you  since  Sigel's  battle." 

"  That's  because  you  ain't  been  in  the  right 
place.  I  ain't  been  idle  durin'  that  time. 
Ask  Kurnel  Harding  or  Gineral  Lyon— or 
Fremont,  fur  that  matter." 

"  Do  you  know  General  Fremont?" 

"I  am  his  scout!" 

The  red-haired  sharpshooter  drew  himself 
up  to  his  full  height,  aud  looked  as  proud  as 
the  peaks  of  the  Ozark. 

"  I  am  going  to  offer  my  services  to  him." 

'•  Be  you  ?"  said  Sharpshot,  eagerly.  "  Good 
fur  you ;  go  right  in  an'  win.  "Thar  air*t  an- 
other man  in  Missouri  like  him.  When  I  say 
this  I  allow  Gin»ral  Lyon  ter  be  as  brave  a 


8 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


man  as  lives,  but  Fremont   is  my  fuvoritp 
overall." 

"  And  mine.  Man,  I  lovi- that  i;all:int  i-x- 
plorer.  Think  of  his  hunlshiij.s  aii.l  bravery 
in  the  extreme  West,  au.t  think  what  lie  lias 
done  for  his  country.    All  honor  to  him,  I 

Barlow  spoke  with  enthusiasm,  and  Sharp- 
shot  Anns  liis  Iiattered  cap  into  the  air. 

Diffcrciitas  flic  two    were    m    looks    and 
Character,  they  were  unite,!  in  then 
tion  lor  the  I'atlihieler. 


admira- 


Tlic  metropolis  ol  the  ,Muntry  i.eyeii.i  iiie 
Father  of  Waters  is  iiev.'i-  a  .lull  eiiy,  anil  on 
this  occasion  Ma.\  found  enon,i;li  to  interest 
him.  ,   , 

What  he  saw  need  not  l.e  iclafea  liere,  ex- 
cept that  part  wlncli  teriiiinated  Ins  c\  enin« 
ramlilc,  and  laid  a  direct  bearmg  on  his  past 

As  ciianei.  w  (uilil  liave  it,  he  saw  no  one 
that  he  knew,  tlioinjli  he  had  some  acquaint- 
ances in  81.  l^uui.s;  but,  though  he  was  in 
citizen's  dress,  he  did  not  fail  to  attract  at- 
tention from  at  least  two  men  who  were 
upon  the  street.  ,    .   .. .     ,  ,,■ 

These  persons  started  at  sight  of  him. 

"Max  Barlow,  liy  the  fiends!"  said  one, 
who  wore  a  lona  red  beard. 

•■80  it  lie  sure  as  shootm,  replied  the 
other  wlio  was  lilesscd  with  a  black  bearO 
of  C'nialinoiiortions. 

The  red-bearded  man  did  not  answer. 

He  was  lookiupc  thoughtfully  after  Max  as 
the  latter  walked  dowu  the  street,  and  Ins 
hand,  thrust  inside  his  coat,  was  working 
nervously  around  some  object  which  was  in- 
visible. 

"Zounds!"  he  muttered,  after  a  pause,  I 
am  tempted  to  do  it." 

"To  do      


picions  in  itself,  and  Barlow  ceuld  not  doubt 
but  tliat  they  intended  to  attack  him  in  the 

He  smiled  grimly  and  drew  both  revol- 
vers from  his  i.oeket. 

soiiiuleil  eliise   beliiniriiim.     He   measured 
tlieir  advaure  by  the  noise,   cautious  as  it 

Suddenly  lie  wheeled,' and  the  assassins, 
pausing  abruptly  to  avoid  running  full  upon 
him,  found  a  glittering  revolver  frowning  at 
each  of  them. 

"Good  evening!"  said  Barlow,  Ijlandly. 
••('an  I  lie  of  any  service  to  you,  gentlemen  ?" 

■•  \Vliat  the  fiends  do  you  mean?"  demand- 
ed (lie  led-liearded  man— tor  it  was  the  pair 
witli  tlie  profuse  hirsute  growth— recovering 
i\  its  with  surprising  liniekness. 


do-1 


Tie 


in  almost  hissed   the 
ry   but   ill-concealed. 


any 


hitch 


and  be  r 
the  well 
you  nin- 
if  there 
Come!" 

Then  the  would-be  assassins  strode  away 
after  Max  Barlow. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

KNIFE  AND  KEVOLVER. 

Our  friend,  the  captain,  had  the  air  of  one 
whollv  at  his  ease  as  he  sauntered  down  the 
street'  and  an  observer  would  have  said, 
too  tied  be  Knew  nothing  of  what  was 
transiiiiin^  about   him  except  what  occur- 


4ei  iiig  way,  bu 
,  but  coolly. 
1  dogging  me  fo 


He  was  speaking  i 
Barlow  interrupted 

"Then  why  have  ■ 
the  last  fifteen  minutes y 

"We  have  done  nothing  of  the  kiud,  de- 
clared the  red-bearded  man,  angrily. 

"I  say  you  have.  I  ve  ero-sed  the  street 
four  times  since  you  fell  in  behind  me, 
solely  for  the  pur)iose  of  testing  you,  and 
you've  followed  as  straight  as  though  I  was 
a  tuiboat.  Now,  here  I  am,  and  if  you  want 
anything  of  nie,  don't  be  bashful  about 
asking.    Spit  it  out!" 

■■  1  tell  you  it  is  a  mistake 

"  It  ix  one,  forvon  to  think  you  can  takeme 
unawares  like  'a  eountryman.  That  part, 
lio\\i\  el,  is  iiiiniaterial.  'Will  you  sho-n- your 
hand  01  thiow  up  the  deal?" 

'riiepairof  lutHans  hesitated.  He,  of  the 
lilaek  beard,  ^^■as  ambitious  to  cast  off  the 
giupiiling-irous,  metaphorically  speakiu;.', 
antl  leave  Captain  Barlow  alone,  but  his 
companion  was  less  inclined  to  give  iip. 
For  reasons  of  his  own,  he  hated  this  quick- 
witted  man  and  aspired  to  end  his  career 

'.luM"'tliei'i',  wiien  (lie  deadlo,-k  was  at  its 
zendli,  oicMi-ied  one  of  those  I'ommon  but, 
iVi  this  el-.'  nnluek\-  a..iil.-nts  of  a  city. 
T»-osi,,all  b..\-s,  ou.-i'n    iinrsiiit  of  the  other. 


away,    cap  i 


said    the    latter. 


"  Come 
quickly. 

"Wliy?" 

"Them  boys  hev  described  you  wal.  an'  ef 
people  get  ter  lookin'  at  you,  there'll  be  an 
arrest,  an'  yon  will  languish  in  prison." 

"  I've  done  nothing  to  be  arrested  for." 

"  Still,  you  may  lose  three  mouths  o'  sar- 
vice  at  the  front  ef  you  don't  save  your 
head."  ^         ,  ,, 

It  was  a  convincing  argument,  and  Max 
followed  the  shaiiishooter  away  from  the 
crowd  and  the  vicinity.  „  ^,    ... 

Barlow  gave  a  clear  account  of  all  that 
had  occurred  under  his  observation.  Then 
they  weiglied  the  fragments  of  evidence,  and 
tried  to  form  a  theory  as  to  the  motive  of 
the  attack.  ,      ^ 

The  most  reasonalde  idea  was  that  plunder 
had  been  the  sole  object,  but  the  fact  that 
Barlow  was  plainly  dressed  rather  disturbed 
that  theory. 

Two  questions  remained  unanswered. 

First,  why  had  he  been  attacked  ? 

Secondly,  what  had  become  of  the  man  he 
had  shot  f 

The  last  conundrum  was  not  less  dense 
than  the  first.  The  black-bearded  man  had 
gone  down  viiomiitlv  when  shot,  and  when 
last  seen  bv  Ma.x,  'had  been  stiuggling  in 
what  seem.'..l  his  death  aiiony  ;  but,  in  spite 
of  that,  he  ha.i  uiysleiiously  disapi.eaicd. 

Not  to  weary  the  rea.ler  with  an    aeeount 

of  Mil  thi'lr -uiiiiises  and  siieeulatious,  let  US 

llv-a\-tliat    Ihev  d.-ei.led    thev   did  not 

w'tli..'eaiiseottlieattaek,  th.it 't he  black- 

■ded  man  mi.. lit  have  in  et.nde.l  to  be  hit 


i.g  hi 


yoiid  the  curb  to  the  street  iiroper. 

It  was  an  interruption  which  gave  the 
red-bearded  man  a  thrill  of  joy,  and  he  leap- 
ed forward,  knife  in  hand,  to  attack  his 
enemy. 


fill 


the  parts  ol 
The  folk. 
was  made  I 
of  a  note 
found  had 
hour  by  a  i 


lly  was. 


ad  not 
d  with 
•  bade 


in  refiectioii ;  and,  after-  ■'  ' 
exaggerated  dreams  in 
ed-bearded  men  played 


Rect 
read  1 


viu"  moniiug,  the  veil  of  mystery 
jieker  than  ever  by  the  arrival 
rhich,  on  due  investigation,  he 
leeu  left  at  the  hotel  at  an  early 
iiall  boy. 

this  note,  Barlow  sat  dowu  and 
n-ords,  which  were  written  in  a 
regular  hand : 


,  night  . 


liickUj-  bafflud  tliera 


yourself 


,vin  be  further 
pvith  worse  than 


tliiiikiiig,  the  critical  observer 
'  1  leen  mistaken.  Barlow's  peace- 
;;s  deceptive  as  the  purring  of  a 

'fn'iviii"  his  life,  he  had  seen  a  good  deal  of 
ough  work.  Through  Missouri  he  had 
:oue  with  his  rifle,  an.l  many  an  adventure 
lad   he  passed  through    amid     (he     (izark 


Moti 


pen 


sesonth 

•  iilaius 

beaver 

i,   and  swapped 

of  Kaiis 

■   to   be 

caught 

w    was 

streets 

too  safe 

at  the 

lonjr  iu  discoT- 

iSSH^Sr'SirS'E^ 

lowed  ?  It  might  be  done  for  any  of  several 
reasons,  but  the  explanation  most  reasona- 
ble was  that  they  intended  to  rob  him. 

"  This  riddle  must  be  solved,"  he  thought, 
■with  perfect  calmness.  "  Plainly,  if  thej^  in- 
tend me  harm,  they  will  do  nothing  while  I 
am  on  so  public  and  well-traveled  a  street. 
A  narrow,  dark  alley  would  suit  them  bet- 
ter. Gentlemen,  I  like  to  aid  in  a  good 
cause,  and  I'll  help  you  over  t 
"linking,  he  first  looke.l 


Londi 


tion  of  his  knife  and 

ed  to  the  right  and  sanui.iv.i  ai..iig  a  sueeu 
which  was  poorly  hghted  and  bin  little  used 
at  that  hour  by  pedestrians. 

As  he  had  thought,  the  two  men  followed 
him,  and  he  was  no  sooner  clear  of  the  crowd 
than  they  begun  to  close  up  rapidly.  In  so 
doing,  they  used  a  caution  whicti  was  sus- 


n  the  ground, 
death  agony, 

away  with  shri 


aroused,  and,  with  his  see.md  revolver  half 
leveled,  he  dashed  after  the  runaway,  order- 
ing him  to  stop.  .,. ,        ^,  •         ,  tK 

The  red-bearded  man  did  nothing  ot  the 
kind,  and  he  jiroved  to  be  so  good  a  runner 
that  Max  eould  not  gain  a  foot. 

.\sa  result,  he  was  about  to  give  him  a 
clniiee  betwi-.n  sb.iiping  or  receiving  an- 
other shoi,  win  n,  su.ideuly,  the  prisoner 
dodn-ed  into  a  veiv  small  and  obscure  alley. 
Barlow  a  little  disturbed  by  the  darkness 
before  him,  followed  more  cautiously,  but, 
iu  spite  of  this,  he  made  a  misstep,  and  fell 
rattling  down  three  or  four  stone  steps. 

When  he  arose,  a  thoroughly  demorahzed 

man,  it  was  to  find  that  the  fugitive  had 

made  good  his  escape.  ,,,,,., 

The  alley  led  to  another  street,  and  he  had 

been  effectually  thrown  oS  the  trail. 

Not  much  time  did  he  spend  there,  but, 
retracing  his  steps,  he  reached  the  vicinity 
of  the  first  trouble  to  find  the  two  small 
boys  the  center  of  an  excited  group  of  men 
who  had  collected  to  learn  all  about  the 
murder  the  boys  claimed  to  have  seen  com- 
mitted. 

Barlow  looked  for  the  man  he  had  shot. 
On  the  sidewalk  was  a  small  pool  of  blood, 
but  no  further  sign  was  to  be  seen. 

While  puzzling  over  this  fack  Max  felt  a 
haBid  laid  on  his  shouldd,  and  turned  to  see 
Sharpshot.  the  saout. 


liad    greeted    this    extraordinarj 

I  a  ivhistle  of  amazement,  but  it 
til  after  inquiry  had  convinced 
leie  was  no  way  of  finding  out  the 

II  wliicli  it  had  emanated,  that  he 
jr  serious  reflection. 

plunged  deeper  than  ever  into 
perplexity.  Who  was  the  writer 
■'  The  scrawl  showed  signs  of  an 
I  disguise  it;  but,  though  signed 
.d  a  iuiine,  there  was  nbthiug  to 
c  of  the  writer.  Friends  do  not 
.su.  h  obscure  warnings;  enemies 


writer  ? 


referred  to. 
strongly  felt 
Qg  bade  him 
reason,  but 
•a.  So  far  as 
it  social  Ufa 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  ItCiB  OF  BATTLE. 

Barlow  had  planned  to  visit  General  Fre- 
mont that  morning,   and,  without  allowinjg 
any  new  complieation  to  interfere  with  his 
plans   he  went  as  jirojccted. 
The   I'ltlihii.ler    received    him    cordially. 
alelter  from  Colonel  Sigel,  and, 
.iiiont  had  heard  of  him  iu  con- 
ith   the   iiregulai'   warfare  in  the 
on.    He  was  glad  to  meet  such  a 
soldier. 

lis  encouraging  welcome,  the  cap- 
1  to  feel  that  he  had  presumed 
much  iu  his  course.  He  had  a  sort  of  wor-  ' 
shipfnl  feeling  for  the  brave  man  who  had 
crossed  theheartof  thecontinent  under  such 
great  dinieulties;  he  had  always  regarded 
him  as  one  fitted  by  his  bravery  and  nobility 
to  stand  high  among  all  men. 
Now,  on  his  own  part,  '■" 
small  fa  ituch  companir 


Max  b. 
besides 
nectioi 
Ozark  1 
prom  is 
Desp 


he  seemed  very 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


being  tired  of  irreeu 

to  offer  his  sword  to  the  ex-explorer. 

Tremout  looked  at  him  keenly-  He  noted 
the  flue,  robust  form  and  firm  face  of  the 
applicant,  and  a  look  of  pleasure  stole  across 
his  face.  Daring  adventurer  that  he  had 
been,  his  nature  was  still  amiable  aud  his 
heart  large. 

"I  am  glad  you  have  come  to  me,"  he  said, 
"though  I  have  no  vacancy  just  at  present, 
or,  rather,  we  lack  the  means  of  organizing 
the  troops  who  are  ready  to  pour  to  our  aid 
when  we  can  pay  and  arm  them.  When 
that  day  comes,  I  shall  be  glad  to  give  you 
a  position.    Just  at  present " 

The  Pathrintl.i-  i.misrd,  reflected  for  a  mo- 
ment, ami  tliiii  tur 1  tn  :ni  orderly. 

"Send  .Major  /.a^onvi  lieiv,"  he  said. 

Barlow  stalled  sH-Iitlv.  He  luid  heard  of 
Major  Zajreiivi  l.elor,..  '  A  Hiuigariau,  who 
had  been  a  soldier  in  liis  iialive  land,  lie  had 
come  to  tlie  United  .'Stales  as  an  exile.  Men 
said  that  he  was  luave  and  true,  and  that 
■with  hiui  the  art  of  war  was  a,  trade  wherein 
he  was  an  adept.  It  was  known,  too,  that 
he  had  offered  lii>  ^word  to  Fremont,  but 
just  what  was  in  store  for  the  Hungarian, 
few  knew  at  thai  period. 

He  came  in  inoniptlv,  asoldier  in  look  and 
bearing,  and  Baiiou' did  not  find  it  lianl  t.i 
believe  the  reports  lie  had  h.'ard  of  liis  valor. 

The  Pathfinder  introiUie.Mltlie  two. 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  have  met  Captain  Bar- 
low, for  of  him  1  have  lielore  heard,"  said 
the  Hungarian,  in  his  peculiarly  worded  En- 
glish. 

"And  I  am  glad  to  meet  the  patriot  of 
Hungary,"  added  Barlow,  ])romptly. 

"  Ah  I  you  shall  not  flatter  me  now,  for 
my  small  deeds  sound  poor  to  great  words," 
remonstrated  Zagouyi,  with  the  modesty  of 
a  truly  brave  man. 

"Don't,  quarrel,  gentleman,"  said  Fre- 
mont, smiling.  "  Save  all  that  for  the  ene- 
mies of  the  republic.  This  soldier,  major, 
wishes  to  see  service.  Where  can  we  flnd  a 
place  for  him?" 

The  Hungarian  looked  first  at  Barlow  and 
then  at  the  general. 

"  There  are  places,"  he  quietly  said. 

"  And  he  would  flll  any  vacancy  ?" 

"Well,  general,  well,  1  make  sure." 

"We  understand  each  other,  then.  Cap- 
tain Barlow,  voiir  offer  is  favorably  re- 
ceived, and  yoii  shall  see  service  near  my 
own  banner.  .Jn^t  at  present,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, there  is  uotliin;;  to  he  dune  here;  but 
there  is  one   plaee   where  you  can  use  your 

sword  with  eneel." 

"Is  with  L\on.  As  you  are  probably 
aware,  the  iiieuij  is  marching  on  Spring- 
fleld,  aud  aliattle  must  ensue.    If  you  wish, 

Sou  cau  go  there  aud  aid  the  cause.  When 
le  fight  is  over,  return  here  and  I  will  find 
a  permanent  plaee  fur  you.  I  shall  offer  j-ou 
a  choice  hetweeii  two  "]iositions.  Major  Za- 
gonyiand  !ii,v>einKn  e  a  jilan  in  view  which 
will  call  for  soine  siioii,-,  active  young  men, 
and  anions  thesi-  yon  ivill  be  weicome." 

"I  choose  tliat  position,  then." 

"Asa  private?" 

"As  anything?" 

"  You  shall  have  your  choice.  Now,  I  will 
write  a  letter  to  General  Lyon,  which  will 
probably  give  you  a  position  near  him  dur- 
ing the  battle,  iiid  mav  von  win  glory." 

Half  an  hour  later  Uiiiiow  left  the  two  ofB- 
cers,  duly  provided  wilh  a  letter  to  Lyon. 

Before  leaving  ^t.  houis.  he  called  on 
Sharpshot,  and  had  a  eon\  ersalion  with  him 


m  1 


but  all  their  surmises  I'aile-I  n,  l,t  da\  lisht 
into  the  mvsterv.  Theseout  e.xi.ie-^  ,1  the 
idea  that  the  note  from  ■■  ( i/ark  was  only 
intended  as  a  scare  from  the  ball  led  ro  I  titers, 
but  Barlow  was  not  so  san'.;uine. 

Putting  together  the  tin.  ad.,  of  ev  ideiiee, 
he  was  inclined  to  think  he  really  iiad  au 
enemy,  who  deliberately  tried  to  a'osassiuato 
him  ;  but  "who  it  was,  aud  what  was  the 
cause  of  his  enmity,  could  not  be  conjec- 
tured. 

In  conclusion.  Barlow  told  the  sharp- 
shooter of  his  proposed  journey  to  Spring- 
field. 

"  Mebbe  I'll  be  thar,  too,"  said  the  latter. 
"Hike  the  smell  o'  smoke,  and  I  want  ter 
get  a  crack  at  the  inemy.  I  never  was  made 
for  flghtin' by  w( 

They  separate 
journey.  He  had  mui-h  up 
fleet.  The  military  situatii 
ture,  the  vague  words  ut  tht 
night  assault,  the  mysteri( 
came  iu  for  a  share  of  atten 

Like  the  lull  between  the 
he  thought  at  times  about  Sharpshot.    The 


and    Barlo 


hich  to  re- 

his  own  fn- 

athflnder,  the 

.  warning— all 

of  a  play, 


man  seemed  to  be  a  peculiar  character.  A 
veteran  borderer,  he  was  uncouth  enough  of 
face  and  dress,  but  his  heart  seemed  to  be 
true ;  and,  somehow.  Barlow  was  drawn  to- 
ward him.  Brief  as  their  acquaintance  had 
been,  he  was  treating  him  as  a  friend,  and 
he  felt  sure  the  confldence  would  not  be  mis- 
placed. 

Our  soldier  arriveit  at  Spriiiglleld  ou  the 
seventh  of  AiiKUsl.  H  was  a  erili<'al  peritnl 
with  the  Union  forlnne-  in  Mi.ssonri.  gen- 
eral Lyon  hi'ld  the  plaee  with  ll\-e  thou.^and 
troops,  anntuu'  whom  was  si^el,  w  hile  a  (.'on- 
federate  arniv  of  lonr  limes  that  strength 
was  uiarehin- a-ain>l  Iheiii,  led  by  Gcnej'als 


iiUl  hope  to  hold 
ousand  soldiers 
,  even  when  led 


nd  was  quickly  assigned 


learer,  and  final 
s  (^reek,  but  they  were 
tiiditiou.  During  their 
n  on  half  rations,  and 
\i\  the\vay;  they  were 
many   eases  only  half 


(111  the  ninth  lA'on  held  a  eouncil  of  officers 
to  deeide  whether  Spriu.slield  should  be 
evacuated  iti-  battle  siveii  theenemy.  Neith- 
ei- plan  proved  satisfaetory.  To  retreat  was 
to  lose  valuable  ground  and  Itreeil  deiuorali- 
zation  among  the  loval  men  (d  Mis.-onii;  to 
fight,  was  to  risk  the  whole  army. 

Still,  the  defenders  were  Itrave-heaited, 
and  they  finally  decided  to  risk  all  against 
their  foe,  outnumbered  as  they  were. 

Ou  that  day  both  armies  were  busy.  Mc- 
Culloch  proposed  to  at  once  push  forward 
on  the  town ;  while  Lvon  resolved  to  go  out 
and  m  eet  his  rival  at  Wilson's  Creek.  Better 
fight  there  than  be  hemmed  in  at  Springfield. 

Lyon  formed  his  little  force  into  two  par- 
ties, the  larger  of  which,  led  by  himself,  was 
to  strike  the  Confederate  front,  while  Sigel, 
with  the  smaller,  was  to  operate  against  the 
rear. 

At  five  o'clock  that  evening  the  army 
moved,  but  it  was  au  hour  past  midnight 
when  the  Confederati'  fires  were  sighted,  and 
four  hours  later  when  the  battle  began. 

The  riii(tn  skirmi>lies  s.nt  the  pickets  back 


sts  moved  with  • 


igor  after  the 
ill.  A  small  force  was 
creek    at    a    bend,    to 

ink,  aud  then  the  main 

1. 

lilly  and   broken,   aud, 

.iiitalile  for  a  stand  and 
men,    every    moment, 

.|.|iiments  in  force. 

plaet"d  at  the  head  of 
rank   of    captain.     His 

wholly  of  new  recruits, 

Leeustomed  for  years  to 

ous  tliey  bore,  having 
Indians    and    border 

I   no  fears  as   to   their 

lew  strode  near  Barlow 


•■They  don't 
tected.  Keep 
r-rs,  cap'n,  an' 


aud  often  veil 

sensible  that  tl 

"Et  they  kii 

let  alio'  these 
your  eye  open 
ef  they  tries  tl 
wildcats  pav  'i 
Barlow   d'id 


lar^e  number-,  and  awaiting  tl 

"Etarnal  li-vrs!'  said  the  ' 
we  got  t.>r  swalnr  all  on  them?" 

"If  wiMht.    we   ean't  keep   them   down,' 
said  a  man  at  Ins  side. 

"  We'll  be  lucky  ter  get  them  down  at  all,' 
added  still  another. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


While  his  i 
with  conside 
the  front.    I 


Fairlv 

Unioui 

Thel 


the  artillery  yawiiiug 
,  looked  grim  enough, 
orce    woiild    crush  the 

latter  army,  however, 


■were  wise  enough  to  go  slow.  The  battalions 
of  Major  Osterhaus,  with  several  companies 
of  Missouri  volunteers,  which  included  Bar- 
low's, were  thrown  forward  as  skirmishers. 

SimnltaHeitnsly  with  this  movement,  sev- 
eral gonsof 'roii'en',.  Battery,  under  Lieuten- 
ant Sakal>ki,  I  tcL'aii  a  heavy  firing,  and,  a  little 
later,  tliewhitle  battery'coming  into  posi- 
tion, the  slaughter  of  the  Confederates  be- 


w,l 

support 

'lev" 
'I'l'iei 

ng  a 

ly   ai 

■  lea 
into 
rifle 

d  rapid, 
t  in  the 
ler,  who 
its  scab- 
thrilled 

liar 

n  ly 

nj>'tl 

dly  1 

an    ob- 
it on  his 
loadiug 

The  lishlim;- eontiiined  with  varying  for- 
tunes, Itut  no  il. ■elded  advantage  to  either; 
but  an  event  was  at  hand  whieh  was  calcu- 
lated to  deal  a  great  blow  to  the  Union 
army  and  the  North  at  large. 

On  the  extreme  right,  three  regiments  of 
Union  soldiers  were  fighting  against  great 
odds,  and  though  they  showed  undiminish- 
ed valor,  it  was  plain  that  fatigue,  thirst 
and  the  press  of  numbers  was  telling  upon 
them  terribly. 

Genei'al  Lyon  saw  their  danger,  and  or- 
dered the  Second  Kansas  to  their  support, 
himself  accompanying  it.  A  desp.Tate  strug- 
gle ensued. 

The  brave  general  rode  along  the  line  in 
the  thickest  of  the  fight,  encouraging  his 
men,  and  not  heeding  the  bullets  which 
whistled  past  him  as  though  they  had  been 
common  hail. 

Then  Colonel  Mitchell  of  the  Second  Kan- 
sas fell  severely  wounded,  and  the  soldiers 
faltered.  They  were  without  a  leader  when 
one  was  most  needed. 

Lyon  saw  their  peril  and  spurred  to  their 
front. 

"Come  on!"  he  cried,  iu  tones  which 
thrilled  them ;  "  I  will  lead  you !" 

They  rallied  at  his  words,  tor  all  loved  the 
brave  soldier,  and  he  looked  like  one  sub- 
limely gifted  then,  but  they  never  followed 
him  to  victory. 

From  the  Confedei-ate  line  came  a  rifle- 
ball  which  found  a  path  to  a  target  too 
sacred  and  noble  to  have  thus  stopped   a 


speedily,  anil  among  the 
ly  rs  who  had  died  for  their 
r'diug  angel   wrote   that  of 


ed.  was  the  calamity,  but 
upon  whom  the  command 
i,:;ed  to  hold  the  ,.nemv  iu 
news   of   Lyons  death'wasv 


strong  foiee  uf  Confederate  holoemeu 
swept  from  a  wood  and  charged  down  upon 
them. 

Barlow  ordered  his  braves  to  stand  firm, 
and  many  a  saddle  was  emptied  as  the  gray 
riders  eame. 

.still,  they  V,-,  re  not  eh.  eked,  and  with  a 
fe.^iiii^  akin  lo.l.^.pair,  Ma.x  saw  that  they 
uiii,-l  .M^a-e  ill  a  haii.l  to  hand  tight. 

'I'lio'la.di  ol  I avalry  had  s.'parated  the 

li.r  1.  i .  I  -  1;  ..i.)  III.- army  jiroper;  and,  hem- 
111.  d  111  a!. .II.'  ill  a  small  valley,  they  must 
li^lii  :iu:iiii,i  I. .111-  times  their  number  of 
nionni.  .1  lii.n,  ..I  take  to   flight  and  be  cut 

Terrible,  indeed,  were  the  odds.  The  horse- 
men were  well  armed,  and  their  evident  ex- 
pectations of  ([uiek  and  complete  -victory 
'  well  grounded. 


10 


THE  WAR  LIBBARY. 


Barlow's  band,  however,  were  resolved  to 
die  bravely,  if,  iudeed,  they  must  die  at  all. 

"Meu!"  lie  shouted,  "show  your  border 
fighting  now.  Up  and  at  the  euemy ;  and, 
reuiembei-,  you  hght  for  Missouri  aud  the 
Union.    "  Don't  let  them  see  our  backs!" 

His  meu  responded  with  a  cheer,  and  then 
came  the  rush  of  the  cavalry. 

Witli  sabers  gleaming  they  swept  on, 
planning  to  carry  all  before  them,  and  this 
time  there  were  no  keen  bayonets  to  dread. 
The  rihes  were  for  shootiiig,  not  for  close 
quarters. 

What  a  surprise  awaited  the  exultant 
foe! 

As  their  horses'  feet  flung  the  turf  into 
the  borderer's  faces,  the  latter  sprung  for- 
ward like  tigers.  Each  man  seized  a  horse 
by  the  rein,  and  few  there  were  who  did 
not  manage  to  avoid  the  downward  stroke 
of  tho  saber. 

It  was  a  grand  picture,  despite  its  horror 
as  a  feature  of  w;ir— grand  because  of  the 
lofty  courage  of  the  ex-Iudian  fighters.  The 
greater  part  of  them  had  dropped  their 
empty  ritles,  .and  when  their  left  hands 
(jlosed  on  the  rein,  their  right  was  busy  with 
a  long-bladed  bowie. 

Some  struck  at  the  necks  of  the  horses, 
others  at  the  riders,  and  others,  still,  vault- 
ed into  the  saddle  beside  the  gray  riders 
and  clutched  at  throat  or  saber-hand. 

Such  a  scene  had  not  been  observed  at  any 
previous  stage  of  the  battle,  and  it  can  only 
be  likened  to  the  leap  of  the  forest  panther 
which  springs  on  his  prey,  and  then  is  busy 
with  tooth  and  claw. 

Barlow  himself,  armed  with  his  sword,  had 
taken  a  firm  stand  to  fight  while  life  lasted. 

The  rush  of  the  troopers  seemed  sure,  at 
first,  to  sweep  all  before  it,  but,  as  they 
came,  the  Union  officer  first  beat  aside  a 
saber  stroke,  and  then,  after  a  brief  exchange 
of  blows,  thrust  the  rider  to  the  heart. 

Tlie  fight  went  on. 

Ten  of  the  bordermen  lay  dead  on  the 
ground,  hut  every  one  that  lived  had  scored 

It  was  a  wild,  ferocious  struggle,  such  as  is 
rarely  seen  lu  battle. 

The  ex-Iudian  fighters  were  truly  human 
pautlieis. 

At  tliis  critical  moment,  when  it  seemed 
as  though  the  In-ave  fellows  must  every  one 
die  facing  the  enemy,  came  another  of  those 
fickle  turns  in  the  tide  so  often  seen  in  war- 
fare. 

Without  a  word  of  warning,  a  body  of 
Union  infantry  charged  along  the  level  of 
the  valley. 

Their  mc-eraeuts  made  no  sound  on  the 
soft  grass,  aud  the  Confederates  did  not  sus- 
pect that  ;i  force  fully  their  eijual  in   uum- 

It  was  a  i|.ii|.nvi'  -il.  n.  .',  I)iit  firm  resolu- 
tion wa> 'x  |.i,<s.(l  in  Ili.>  lac. ■*  of  the  new- 
comers, and  till' ,L'li:-ti'iiiii.i;  lit  the  Sim  upon 
their  bayonets  sho«-ed  how  they  were  going 
to  attack. 

The  blow  came. 

Like  a  mighty,  turbulent  sea,  the  rescuers 
dashed  themselves  on  the  troopers. 

This  time  it  was  man  tu  man.  and  as  the 
bordermen  saw  the  tuin  (.1  fin-  till.,  tin  v 
rallied  afresh  and  began  t..   li-lit  Iiki<  li- mis. 

Ah!  then  how  busy  wen-  tho^e  (inii'-I.Ti,;;lit 
bayonets,  always  so  terrible  a  weapon  of 
war. 

The  alarm  spread  quickly ;  they  faltered, 
gave  ground,  broke  aud  fled. 

A  short  ilistiince  the  wieklers  of  the  bayo- 
net went  ill  imisnit.  Imtit  would  be  fatal  to 
venturi- far  li'.un  tlif  mam  I  i.uly  of  theUnion 
force  ami  tin-v  lurmMl  \,:u-k. 

The  l)iiiilianii-n,  tiri'd  at  last  of  cheering, 
suddeuly  saw  that  their  leader  was  not 
among  them. 

Alarmed,  they  looked  among  the  dead, 
but  he  was  not  there,  and  they  could  only 
conclude  that  he  was  a  prisoner. 

He  was  seen  no  more  during  the  fight. 

Let  us  see  what  became  of  him. 

Hard  pressed  bv  an  enemy.  Barlow  did 
not  perceive  the  "charge  of  the  infantry 
until    their    blew    was   dealt,  and    he    was 


still 


Thii 


sadil 


,'hich   he 


versary,  hail  i-auseil  ) 
from  lii.-  hanil.  anil,  ; 
he  hail  nut  a  wi-ai.on 
plai-c  lii^  lianil.-- 

His  struuLili .-  «  .IV  in  vain,  for  the  Confed- 
erate hail  till  vtiiiijith  ol  an  ox,  and  Barlow 
wasfoiii'il  li.lii-in  impotent  rage  while  the 
troopers  lieat  their  disorderly  retreat. 

They  went,  and  with  them  went  Max,  a 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MAX  BECOMES  A  GUEKUrLLA. 

lattlei 

It  was  madi 
the  destruction  was  often  great,  and,  as  long 
as  life  lasts,  will  those  engaged  remember 
the  battle  of  Wilson's  Creek. 

Outnumbered  as  they  were,  the  Union 
army  would  have  been  cut  to  pieces  and 
hurled  back  to  Springfield,  only  to  fall  com- 
pletely into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  a  little 
later,  had  it  not  been  for  the  artillery 

Those  great  guns  saved  the  day. 

Totten,  Dubois  and  Steele  were  at  all  times 
busy,  and,  where  they  used  the  cannon,  the 
loss  to  the  enemy  was  great. 

These  batteries  saved  the  Union  army  at 
the  last  grapple  of  the  day. 

Deceived  by  a  trick  of  tlie  enemy,  who 
showed  a  flag  captured  from  the  boys  in 
blue,  consteriiatiou  had  seized  upon  the  lat- 
ter, when  Totten  and  Dubois  turned  their 
guns  upon  the  deceitful  foe,  and,  aided  by  a 
stout  charge  of  the  infantry,  drove  back  the 
Confederates  with  heavy  loss. 

It  was  the  last  fight  of  the  long  series. 

A  nominal  victory  had  been  gained  by  the 
Union  arms,  but  the  foe  had  only  retreated 
a  short  distance. 

A  council  of  officers  being  held.  Major 
Sturgis  resolved  to  retreat  to  Springfield. 

They  went,  and  on  the  way  were  joined  by 
Sigel  and  three  of  the  fwelve  hundred  men 
he  had  lead  to  attack  the  Confederate  rear. 

Where  had  Sigel  been  during  all  the  fight  ? 

The  story  was  soon  told.  He  and  his  men 
had  been  deceived  by  the  same  low  strata- 
gem which  nearly  ruined  Sturgis'  command 
at  a  later  period  of  the  day— a  large  body  of 
Confederates  had  shown  a  Union  flag  and  so 
drawn  Sigel's  force  into  a  trap,  where  the 
majority  of  them  were  captured. 

The  junction  effected,  as  before  related, 
Sigel,  who  ranked  Sturgis,  assumed  com- 
mand, and  the  broken  army  went  steadily 
on  toward  Springfield. 

Max  Barlow  did  not  accompany  his 
friends.  A  prisoner  in  the  Confederate 
camp,  he  had  been  huddled  together  with 
others,  among  whom  were  some  taken  from 
Sigel's  command,  and  they  were  left  in  sus- 
pense while  the  battle  raged  at  the  front. 

Barlow  was  disconsolate  enough.  It  was 
not  in  his  nature  to  relish  inaction  when  his 
efforts  were  needed  in  the  Union  cause,  and 
since  his  capture  he  had  seen  with  his  own 
eyes  how  overwhelmuing  were  the  odds 
against  the  little  army. 

When  Sturgis  retreated,  his  enemy  had  no 
heart  for  following  him.  They  claimed  the 
battle  as  theirs,  but  their  loss  was  heavy, 
and  they  allowed  the  Unionists  to  go  m 
peace. 

Captain  Barlow,  as  he  lay  among  the  other 
prisiineis,  kei.nly  watched  the  scene  around 
him;  ami,  aumug  other  things,  he  discover- 
ed that   K.-.'ler.   the  guerrilla,   was   on  the 

a«a\,  iMit  till 

till'  iait  that  he  was  thus  watched. 

I'll.-  sicue  had  not  changed  materially 
wilt  n  Mitrht  fell  over  the  battlefield  audits 
\  iciuity.  Some  of  the  prisoners  were  deep 
in  despair,  while  others,  among  whom  was 
Barlow,  were  inclined  to  take  matters  as 
easy  as  possible. 

lie  was  weary  enough  after  the  day's 
figlilin^',  anil,  lalinly  lying  down,  he  pre- 
pai.il  In  t;i'l  a  litti.'  sli-eii.  Close  at  hand 
lia.iil  a  -iiai.l.  Harlow  watched  him  indif- 
tiTi  nily  lora  f.y  minutes  ns  he  walked  his 
beat,  anil  llnai  i-IomiiI  his  eyes. 

Fi\  .■  ininiitis  later  he  opeued  them  sud- 
deiiix ,  111-  had  felt  a  touch  ou  his  arm, and, 
as  III'  Ii.oImiI,  111'  saw  a  man  lyiug  close  be- 
side liiin.  B.f..ie  he  closed  his  eyes,  the 
man  had  not  been  there. 

"  Hush ! "  the  latter  whispered.  "  Be  silent, 
for  your  life!" 

Max  made  no  reply,  but  used  his  eyes 
well.     Thevoii'e  sounded  familiar,  but   the 

■■II..  yon  know  me  ?"  continued  the  other. 

•■  No,' '   Mallow  answered. 

■■  lin  Shariisliot,  the  sharpshooter !" 

'I'll.' laiitaiu  could  not  ayoi.l  a  start,  aud 
aL'ain  the  last  speaker  comiiu.ml.il  sihiHc. 
His  tai  .■  now  began  to  be  in..i  .•  .iistin.t,  and 
the   i.iisoner    saw    that   it  wa^   in. hid    the 

"  Are  you  sharp  enough  ter  kerry  out  my 
plans?" 

"  I'll  try,"  said  Max,  promptly. 

"I'm  hyar  ter  rescue  you.  I'll  cut  your 
bonds,  ef  you  have  any " 

"I  am  not  bound." 


"Good!  Well,  I  want  you  ter  roll  saf tly 
an'  slowly  toward  the  thicket  yender.  Go 
mighty  slow,  or  you  will  be  seen.  I'll  stay 
ill  your  place.  When  you  reach  the  trees, 
look  at  the  foot  of  the  biggest  tree  an'  you'll 
see  a  Confederate  uniform  rolled  in  a  bun- 
dle. Put  that  on  over  your'n  jest  as  quick 
as  possible.  When  you  have  had  time  ter 
dress,  I'll  roll  the  same  way  an'  jine  you. 
Then  we'll  both  be  in  gray,  an'  we  kin  easily 
escape  from  the  camp.    See?" 

Barlow  did  see,  and,  though  the  undertak- 


Sharpshot's  hand  and  then  began  the  work. 

Once,  only,  did  he  roll  over  at  the  start. 
Then  he  paused  and  looked  about.  The 
_        ■  .      ,..  -        .  -g   ]jgat,  the 

scout  lay  like  one  asleep  and  no  one  seemed 
watching  the  captain. 

Again  he  rolled  over.  All  remained  as  be- 
fore. 

It  was  a  terribly  exciting  moment,  but  it 
was  not  Max  Barlow's  first  adventure.  He 
turned  again,  and  yet  once  more,  and  still 
no  alarming  thing  was  heard  or  seen. 

He  was  half  way  to  the  bushes.  They 
seemed  to  stretch  out  their  branches  like  the 
welcoming  hands  of  a  friend.  He  was  in  the 
midst  of  his  venture— how  would  it  end  ? 

Steadily  he  moved  on.  Now  and  then, 
some  of  the  other  prisoners  stirred  restless- 
ly, but  no  one  seemed  to  notice  his  own 
movements.  He  steadily  neared  the  bushes, 
and  then,  at  last,  reached  their  cover. 

Arising  to  his  feet,  he  looked  back  and 
saw  the  guard  at  his  best.  Sharpshot  lay 
perfectly  still  on  the  ground. 

"Brave fellow!"  muttered  Barlow.  "He 
is  a  jewel  of  great  value,  just  at  present." 

It  was  no  time  for  delay.  The  captain  en- 
tered the  thicket,  searched  for  the  bundle, 
aud  found  it  as  the  scout  had  said.  He  felt 
a  momentary  fear  that  it  would  not  be 
large  enough,  but  Sharpshot  had  made  no 
mistake.  In  went  on  over  Barlo-o-'s  own 
uniform  and  fitted  well. 

He  was  then  ready  for  the  next  step  in 
the  venture,  and  had  only  to  waitjjfor  the 
scout. 

At  that  moment,  however,  voices  sounded 
at  the  edge  of  the  thicket,  and  he  felt  a  thrill 
of  apprehension. 

The  uuseen  men  began  pushing  through 
the  bushes,  and  Max  knew  not  which  way  to 
turn. 

Trusting  to  the  darkness,  he  stepped  be- 
hind a  tree  and  awaited  in  dead  silence. 

The  men  advanced,  muttered  among  them- 
selves, and  paused,  so  that  Barlow  was  actu- 
ally among  them. 

He  was  seen.  One  of  them  addressed  him 
carelessly,  he  answered  with  a  rude  dialect, 
and  then  stood  firm,  trusting  to  luck. 

"How  many  are  here?"  one  of  the  new- 
comers asked. 

A  count  was  made. 

"  Seven,  besides  yourself,  captain." 

The  count  included  Barlow. 

"That is  enough." 

Max  realized  that,  owing  to  the  darkness, 
the  men  had  not  suspected  but  what  he  had 
come  with  them,  and  as  they  had  previously 
been  uncertain  as  to  their  number,  there 
■was  a  chance  that  the  deception  might  be 
continued. 

Somehow,  the  voice  of  him  who  seemed  to 
be  the  leader,  sounded  familiar,  but  Max 
could  not  place  it. 

"I  have  a  little  work  on  hand  which  I 
wish  to  do  secretly,  and  then  return  to  camp 
without  our  absence  being  discovered.  Of 
course,  we  can  go  anyway,  for  we  are  under 
no  man's  orders;  but  I  want  to  keep  the 
matter  dark.  Tou  seven  are  ready  to  foUo^w 
me,  are  you  ?" 

Several  of  the  men  answered  affirma- 
tively. 

"Th( 

keep  close  to  my  heels.    Come  ou. 


rhen  follow  me  at  once.    Walk  in 


pair 


He  started  from  the  thicket,  and  the  men 
began  to  execute  his  orders. 

"Jones,  1  reckon  you  an'  I  kin  walk  'long- 
side  each  other,  an'  not  quarrel." 

A  burl V  fellow  addressed  the  remark  to 
Barlow.'  It  showed  that  the  Unionist  was 
mistaken  lor  a  man  who  bore  the  melodious 
name  of  .loins,  ami  it  also  showed  that  the 
couuterfi-it  ( 'oiiledeiate  must  either  fall  into 
line  or  invite  comment,  aud  possibly  dis- 
covery. 

He  longed  to  decline  the  honor  tendered 
him,  but  dared  not  do  so. 

"  I  reckon  we  kin,"  he  said,  in  reply. 

Then  he  and  the  burly  man  strode  from 
the  bushes,  side  by   side,  with  men  in  front 

Barlow  was  in  a  state  of  mental  demorali- 
zation. He  was  starting  on  an  expedition  of 
an  unknown  character ,  he  was  hopele  s« 


THE  WAR  LIBBARY. 


11 


leaving  Sharpshot,  and  if  the  venture  did 
not  end  in  his  discomfiture  it  would  be  a 
wonder. 

Surrounded  by  these  men,  who  were  his 
deadly  euemies,  if  they  had  but  known  it, 
he  walked  through  the  Confederate  camp. 
Other  men  looked  at  them,  but  none  in  sus- 
picion. 

Beyond  the  heart  of  the  camp,  the  leader 
paused. 

"  If  any  of  you  are  short  of  weapons,  help 
yourselves  from  that  pile."  he  said,  pointing 

1  he  spoke.    "  We  want  to  go  well  armed." 


Iti 


chance  Barlow  did  not  fail  to  i 


life,  but  from  the  pile  he  took  a  musket, 
pair  of  revolvers,  and  a  saber— the  lattei'  be- 
cause he  saw  that  his  companions  were  simi- 
larly armed. 

"  Now  for  the  horses,"  said  the  leader. 
"Follow  me." 

Barlow  had  been  studying  the  last  speaker, 
and  trying  to  remember  where  he  had  seen 
him  before,  and  now  he  made  a  discovery. 

He  was  Keeler,  the  guerrilla ! 

Truly,  the  Unionist  was  in  dangerous  com- 
pany. 

Rapidly  he  tried  to  form  a  plan  of  escape. 
He  had  heard  that  since  the  Confederate  had 
lost  his  horse,  he  had  sworn  to  kill  the  man 
who  had  confiscated  him,  and  discovery 
would  probably  result  in  worse  than  ordi- 
nary captivity. 

Once,  Barlow  was  on  the  point  of  trying  to 
dash  away,  but  second  thought  showed  him 
that  the  attempt  would  probably  result  to 
h  issorrow,  and  he  resolved  to  bide  his  time. 

Going  a  little  further,  they  reached  a  num- 
ber of  horses,  and  the  guerrillas  began  to 
select  such  as  pleased  them,  without  a  per- 
ceptible regard  for  previous  ownership. 

Barlow  fouud  one  which  he  judged  to  be 
fleet-footed,  and  when  the  other  men  swung 
into  the  saddle  he  was  not  far  behind. 

Keeler  gave  another  order,  and  the  party 
started  at  a  walk,  their  faces  due  south. 

They  were  fairly  off  on  their,  to  Barlow, 
unknown  expedition,  and  he  was  far  from 
feeling  at  ease.  Why  he  was  not  already 
detected  he  could  not  guess,  but  had  he 
known  how  much  he  resembled  the  genuine 
Jones,  he  would  have  felt  more  at  ease.  This 
fact,  together  with  the  darkness,  was  greatly 
in  his  favor. 


CHAPTER    Xni. 

KEELEE'S     LITTLE     GAME. 

Not  far  did  the  guerrillas  go  before  Keeler 
put  his  horse  into  a  sharp  trot,  and  the  eight 
men  swept  away  down  the  road. 

The  leader  and  another  man  were  at  the 
front,  while  the  others  rode  abreast  in 
threes. 

Barlow  was  a  good  deal  interested  in  this 
mysterious  expedition,  but  he  could  only 
conjecture  that  Keeler  saw  a  chance  for 
plunder.and  when  anythiugof  the  kind  was 
to  be  secured  the  creed  and  practices  of  the 
guerrilla  fi>rbade  inactivity. 

Whatever  was  in  store  for  them  there  was 
at  present  no  chance  for  him  to  escape.  Rid- 
ing as  the  center  man  of  the  first  trio,  he  was 
literally  surrounded  by  his  enemies,  and  as 
long  as  that  lasted  he  must  think  himself 
lucky  if  he  was  not  stripped  of  his  false 
honors. 

As  Jones,  he  was  safe ;  as  a  Unionist,  among 
such  men  and  so  far  from  others,  he  would 
probably  get  a  send-off  on  his  final  worldly 
journey. 

The  country  was  as  familiar  to  him  as  the 
palm  of  his  own  hand.  Hundreds  of  times 
he  had  passed  over  it  as  a  boy,  and  in  his 
maturer  years :  while  only  a  few  miles  to  the 
front  was  the  village  where  the  greater  part 
of  his  life  had  been  passed. 

This  fact  suddenly  occurred  to  him  with 
startling  force.  They  were  heading  directly 
toward  the  village.  Was  that  the  objective 
point  of  their  expedition  ? 

The  fear  became  a  strong  suspicion,  and 
developed  into  conviction.  Nearer  and 
nearer  they  rode,  until  only  halt  a  mile  lay 
between  them  and  Barlow's  old  friends.  He 
became  greatly  excited  internally,  for  it 
seemed  certain  "that  the  village,  or  some  of 
its  inhabitants  were  menaced. 


a  handful  of  men,  and  if  they  should  run 
upon  any  Unionists,  they  might  fare  badly. 
True,  the  village  was  in  the  nominal  posses- 
sion of  the  Confederates,  but  no  force  of  sol- 
diers was  near,  and  many  of  the  people  were 
loyal  to  the  old  flag. 

They  did  not  enter  the  village,  but,  keep- 
ing to  the  east,  rode  slowly  jKist,  and  in  a 
short  time  entered  a  small  piece  of  wood. 

Bai-Jowfelt  varied  emotions  at  this  stage  of 


their  journey.  It  was  in  this  very  wood  that 
Edgar  Peterson  had  been  hanged,  and  the 
mystery  surrounding  his  subsequent  disap- 
pearance was  still  unsolved. 

Had  he  been  taken  away  with  life  extinct 
and  given  secret  burial,  or  had  some  friend 
rescued  him  in  time,  and  enabled  him  to  es- 
cape the  clutches  of  Judge  Lynch? 

Whichever  was  the  case,  it  had  been  a  sad 
affair,  and  Barlow  shuddered  as  they  rode 
under  the  trees. 

His  mind  soon  wandered  to  another  sub- 
ject, however.  A  hundred  yards  beyond  the 
wood  stood  the  house  of  Mr.  Somers,  and 
there  was  all  that  was  tender  in  Barlow's 
life.  He  thought  then  of  Olive,  and  won- 
dered if  Lena  and  herself  were  still  astir  or 
sleeping,  unconscious  of  the  enemy  so  near. 

Ho!  what  means  this  halt  in  the  wood  so 
near  the  Somers'  cottage? 

"  Dismount!"  said  Keeler. 

His  men  obeyed,  and  stood  grouped  aoout 
him. 

"  I  will  now  tell  you  the  work  in  hand," 
said  the  guerrilla  chief,  in  a  subdued  voice. 
"In  yonder  house  are  two  girls  who  are 
wanted  by  certain  men.  I  want  ore,  and 
another  man  wants  the  other.  With  your 
help  I  am  going  to  take  them  now.  Are  you 
witlime?" 

"  Yes,"  several  of  the  men  answered  to- 
gether. 

Barlow,  however,  was  silent.  The  an- 
nouncement had  fallen  upon  him  like  a 
thunderbolt.  Hostile  nations  might  arise  in 
arms,  battles  might  be  fought,  earthquakes 
might  occur,  and  floods  come,  yet,  to  a  con- 
siderable degree,  his  mind  would  be  easy  so 
long  as  Olive  Somers  remained  safe  and  un- 
injured. 

To  him,  that  cottage  was  the  most  sacred 
spot  on  earth,  for  it  contained  the  woman 
he  loved  and  hoped  to  one  day  call  his  wife. 
Now,  as  he  heard  the  cool  and  villainous 
plans  of  the  guerrilla,  his  blood  seemed  to 
chill. 

"  Good !"  said  Keeler,  in  answer  to  the  re- 
sponse of  the  men.  "  I  knew  I  could  count 
on  you,  and  you  shall  not  go  unrewarded. 
We  shall  meet  with  but  little  opposition. 
Only  the  girls  and  Abram  Somers  are  there, 
and  he  is  too  old  to  do  much  harm." 

"We  will  hang  him  ef  he  proves  ugly," 
said  one  of  the  guerrillas. 

"  Let  a  knife  or  revolver  do  the  work  as 
circumstancesrequire.  Of  course,  if  heshows 
fight,  we  must  not  leave  him  alive.  Now, 
hear  my  plan,  which  is  simple:  We  will  sur- 
round the  house,  and  I  will  knock  at  the  door. 
Somers  will  open,  and  then  in  we  go.  Next, 
I  will  state  my  errand  and  carry  it  out.  The 
two  girls,  Olive  and  Lena,  go  with  us ;  the  old 
man  remains— dead  or  alive!" 

The  cool  villainy  of  the  plan  astounded 
Barlow,  who  clearly  perceived  that  he  had 
work  to  do.  He  blessed  the  lucky  chance 
which  had  made  him  one  of  the  party,  even 
while  he  did  not  see  how  he  was  to  success- 
fully oppose  Keller's  plot. 

With  seven  men  against  him,  it  looked  as 
though  he  was  doomed  to  fail,  if  not  to  be 
slain  in  trying ;  but  not  for  an  instant  did 
he  think  of  failing  to  do  his  uttermost. 

Olive  Somers  should  be  saved  from  these 
ruflians,  or  he  would  die  in  fighting  for  her. 

Keeler  gave  his  directions  plainly,  and, 
leaving  their  horses  in  the  wood,  they  stole 
from  cover  and  approached  the  house. 

All  there  was  peaceful  and  quiet,  though 
the  dull  light  from  a  curtained  window  at 
the  rear  showed  that  all  the  household  had 
not  yet  retired.  Barlow  knew  the  light 
shone  from  Abram's  own  room. 

Keeler  moved  first  to  this  vicinity  and 
tried  to  peer  within,  but  the  closely-drawn 
curtain  battled  him. 

"Jones,"  he  said,  in  a  subdued  voice,  "  re- 
main at  this  spot,  and  don't  let  a  soul  escape, 
Hardy  and  Eaton,  each  of  you  take  an  end 
of  the  house,  and  the  rest  of  j-ou  follow  me 
to  the  front.  Don't  harm  the  girls,  for  I 
want  Olive  for  my  wife,  but  if  the  old  man 
is  ii;:l\  .  siiilv  li'nd  as  soon  as  you  please." 

lli'^'pil.- ilic  lil>M,d-curdling  way  in  which 
he  (ini^liiMl,  i;:iiIo\\-  was  pleased  at  the  plan. 
By  cliaiii c,  In-  lia.l  been  given  just  the  posi- 
tion lio  ivuulil  have  desired,  and  he  was  re- 
solved to  move  quickly  when  once  free  from 
observation. 

The  next  few  minutes  were  destined  to  be 
important  ones  in  the  lives  of  Olive  and 
Lena  Somers.  Either  they  wnnldbe  rcsrucd 
through  the  strange  chancf  tliat  had  niaili- 
Barlow  a  temporary  fullnwi-i- <.l  Ki-.l.-i,  or 
else  they  would  be  in  the  imwer  ol  llial  law- 
less man— in  his  own  words,  lie  "wanted 
them." 

Significant  words,  though,  as  yet,  not 
wholly  explained. 

An  observer  would  have  said  that  Barlow 


had  no  hope  of  saving  the  girls.  With  seven 
men  against  him,  his  chances  were  indeed 
small. 

The  genuine  guerrillas  went  to  their  sev- 
eral posts,  and  Max  had  the  rear  of  tie  house 
to  himself. 

He  strode  forward,  and  was  about  to  tap 
on  the  window  when  a  hand  was  laid  on  his 
shoulder.  He  wheeled  like  a  flash,  and  saw 
the  rebel  who  had  been  called  Eaton. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,"  said  the  latter,  quick- 
ly;  "I  will  be  your  friend,  if  you  will  let 
me." 

"  Ain't  you  my  friend  already?"  asked  the 
Unionist,  recovering  his  wits  quickly  and 
using  his  disguised  voice. 

"  I  am.  Max  Barlow  !" 

This  time  the  captain  started  even  more 
than  before.  Significant  and  ominous  the 
name  was  that  he  heard  pronounced,  when 
spoken  by  one  of  Keeler's  gang. 

"  Hush !  not  a  word.  I  say  we  are  friends, 
and  I  will  prove  it.  You  are  for  the  North 
and  I  love  the  South,  but  I  am  no  blood- 
hound to  dog  women.  I  will  aid  you  to 
thwart  Keeler,  if  you  will  let  me." 

The  man  spoke  quickly,  and  Barlow  felt 
that  there  was  sincerity  m  his  voice,  but  it 
seemed  so  strange  that  he  suspected  a  trap. 

"  Who  and  what "he  began;    but  the 

other  interrupted  him  impatiently. 

"  Max  Barlow,  will  you  ruin  all  ?  Keeler's 
knock  may  sound  at  the  door  any  minute. 
Once  and  for  all,  will  you  trust  me !" 

"Yes,"  said  the  Unionist,  quickly. 

"Then  do  as  I  tell  you.  Let  those  inside 
alone,  and  trust  to  strategem.  Let  each  one 
of  us  fire  off  one  of  the  two  revolvers  we 
carry,  in  a  rapid  though  irregular  way,  and 
rush  around  the  house,  one  on  each 


but  will  put  the  guerrillas  to  flight.  Iknow 
their  mettle,  and,  my  word  for  it,  they  will 
go  in  haste.    Will  you  do  it?" 

The  manner  of  Eaton  was  so  convincing 
that,  for  the  moment.  Max  did  not  think 
that  all  this  might  be  a  trick  to  get  his  re- 
volver emptied.  He  felt  sure  his  companion 
was  acting  in  good  faith,  and  was  willing  to 
go  with  the  tide. 

"Then,  begin!" 

They  separated  and  each  went  to  his  old 
post. 

A  minute  later,  just  as  Keeler  was  about 
applying  his  knuckles  to  the  door,  a  shot 
sounded  from  tlie  eastern  end  of  the  house. 
A  second  followed,  then  one  from  the  rear, 
and  close  on  their  heels  came  half  a  dozen  in 
an  irregular  way. 

The  guerrilla  had  paused  at  the  first  shot, 
muttering  a  curse  at  what  he  thought  an 
accidental  discharge  of  Eaton's  revolver, 
but,  as  the  fusillade  continued,  his  views 
changed. 

"The  game  is  up!"  he  muttered,  with  a 

Then  around  the  corner  of  the  house  dash- 
ed Eaton,  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 

"The  Unionists!"  he  shouted,  at  the  top  of 
his  voice.  "They  are  on  us  in  full  force. 
Run  for  your  lives  !" 

Swinging  his  revolver  above  his  head,  the 
speaker  dashed  toward  the  wood,  and  the 
guerrillas  began  to  follow.  Keeler  shouted 
a  command  tor  them  to  hold  their  ground, 
but  he  might  as  well  have  called  to  the 
wind.  When  they  fought,  they  wanted  the 
odds  in  their  favor,  and  they  had  no  desire 
to  figure  as  prisoners. 

So,  finding  himself  deserted,  the  chief 
briskly  bn.u^lil  iiji  Hn'  rear,  and  they  went 
atfulls]KT.I  loiih,.  IV.HhI. 

Twoorlliii''  shnts  s.iunded  in  the  rear, 
and  one  bull'-i  \vlnsth-d  close  to  Keeler's 
head,  thus  giving  fresh  fuel  to  the  strat- 
agem. 

They  reached  the  woods,  gained  their 
horses,  and  leaped  into  the  saddles;  and,  as 
they  did  so,  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle  sound- 
ed in  the  rear,  and  a  bit  of  lead  tore  through 
one  fellow's  arm. 

No  more  was  needed  to  complete  the 
rout ;  but,  as  a  side-show,  several  more  bul- 
lets whistled  ])ast  them,  and  they  were  all  in 
ai-cnid  as  tliHV  spurred  away  in  retreat. 

Xu  mil-  w  a^  sn  surprised  at  the  last  firing 
as  I'.aii.ii.  Ill' saw  that  Barlow,  alias  Jones, 
was  iiiit  aiij.iiig  them,  but  he  had  not  ex- 
1H(  t'd  luni  to  loUow  so  far.  In  fact,  he  was 
siiii'  hr  liail  not,  and  the  sharp,  keen  report 
wlii(  li  l»-gan  the  firing  in  the  wood  was  that 
111  a  ililTeieut  weapon  than  that  carried  by 
Bail.iw. 

Who.  then,  had  fired  the  shot? 

Captain  Barlow  had  carried  out  his  part 
of  the  plan,  so  far  as  the  firing  of  his  revolv- 
er was  concerned ;  but  he  delayed  so  long  ia 


12 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


joining  in  Eaton's  alarm,  that  when  he  turn- 
ed the  corner  he  saw  the  guerrillas  already 
ki  flight. 

Perceiving  this, 


;  oeeureil  t,i  hira  that  it 
,  fall  out  o(  such  (hiuirci- 
OUbUouiiJ.iuy.  Discovery  lucaiit  troiihlc,  it 
not  an  abrupt  farewell  to  Ufe,  and,  besides. 
he  was  needed  at  the  house. 

Consequently,  he  paused  near  the  house, 
and  saw  the  gang  continue  their  flight  with- 
out any  regret  on  his  part.  The  possibility 
that  they  might  return,  caused  him  to  hasten 
to  reload  his  revolver,  and  he  had  just  fln- 
ished  the  work  when  they  disappeared 
among  the  trees. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ZAGONTI  AND  THE  GUARD. 

At  the  same  moment  the  window  of  Som- 
ers'  room  was  thrown  open,  but  Max  did 
not  look  that  way.  He  heard  a  rifle  shot 
among  the  trees,  followed  by  several  reports 


in  a  different  key,  and  the  fact  caused  him 
fresh  wonder.  . 

Just  then,  however,  Abram  s  voice  sound- 
ed behind  him. 

"Who's  there?"  he  sharply  asked. 

Barlow  tui-ned  toward  the  window. 

"  It  is  I,  Ma.x  Barlow,"  he  answered. 

'■  What  is  the  trouble  ?"  .     ,   „ 

The  captaiu  went  closer  and  took  the  set- 
tler's hand,  at  the  same  time  beginning  a 
hurried  e.\plauation. 

He  was  not  through,  when  he  saw  a  man 
approaching  in  the   darkness ;    but, 
cocked   his   revolver,  the 


comer  spoke 


"  Hold  up.  thar ;  don'  sling  any  lead— least- 
wise not  at  me.  Spare  your  friends.  Max 
Barlow,  fur  frieuds  are  skeerce." 

The  voice  was  familiar,  but  Barlow  stood 
in  uncertainty  uutil  the  speaker  came  near- 
er, aud  he  saw  the  blooming  face  of  Sharp- 
ghot,  the  scout.  ,       .    ,  ,, 

"  Quite  a  little  picnic  you  ve  ben  havin  , 
was  the  genial  observation. 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  get  here, 
Sharpshot?"  Barlow  asked,  in  surprise,  as  he 
w  ung  the  sharpshooters  hand. 

He  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  I'll  be  shot  if  I  skeercely  know,"  he  an- 

.Tiist  thfu  th'- voice  of  Abram  Somersagain 
emaudiug  the 


the  I 


id  Max  turned  toward  the 


they  would  be  a  trifle  safer  than  in  the  lone- 
ly dwelling. 

To  this  they  at  first  objected,  but  Sharp- 
shot sided  with  his  companion  aud  they  car- 

'  ''vbi'le  tlie'y  talked  Max  frequently  looked 
at  Leua  aud"  thought  of  Edgar  Peterson.  She 
showed  fewer  signs  of  sorrow  than  he  had 
expected,  but  occasionally  a  look  of  sadness 
settled  on  her  fair  face,  and  he  suspected  she 
was  thinking  of  the  tragedy  in  the  wood. 

The  matter  ended  in  the  closing  of  the 
house,  and  the  whole  party  went  to  the  vil- 
lage together,  where  Soiucis  sought  shelter 
for  himself  aud  daughters  iu  the  house  of  a 
friend.  Max  urged  them  logo  te  tSt.  L.mis 
as  soou  as  possiljle,  and  so  get  entirely  clear 
of  the  dangers  of  war,  aud  they  promised  to 
consider  the  matter. 

Morning  was  near  at  hand  when  our  two 
friends  set  out  on  their  return  to  the  army. 
A  horse  had  been  found  for  the  scout,  aud 
they  went  in  good  condition. 
Keeler  and  his  band  were  not  again  seen. 
The  Union  army,  despite  the  tact  that  it 
had  fought  so  bravely,  found  itself  in  no 
condition  to  hold  the  disputed  territory.  The 
command  had  devolved  on  Sigel,  as  the  next 
in  rank  after  the  death  of  Lyon,  and  he  de- 
cided to  evacuate  Springfield  and  move  to  a 
safer  place.  . 

His  successful  retreat  to  Roila  is  a  matter 
of  history,  aud  though  McCulloch  claimed  a 
victory  at  Wilson's  Creek,  he  made  no  at- 
tempt ♦"  capture  the  rich  train  which  went 
aiiili']-  the  ;i:invs  protection. 

Wlieii  KelUi  Was  reached, Barlow  prepared 
t,,  keeii  his  «  ..III  to  Fremont.  He  started 
ler  SI  [...uis,  accompanied  by  Sharpshot, 
who  said  he,  too,  wished  to  see  the  general, 
and  they  arrived  there  in  due  time. 

The  captain  remembered  his  adventure 
when  last  in  the  city,  and  wondered  if  he 
would  see  anything  more  of  his  mysterious 
assailants.  Sharpshot  was  of  the  opinion 
that  the  attack  had  been  nothing  more  than 
one  of  city  bravos,  but  when  the  letter  was 
eeusidered,  he  was  wholly  at  fault. 

If  it  had  come  from  a  friend,  his  identity 
was  well  coucealed. 

Barlow  reported  to  General  Fremont,  aud 
heard  the  project  to  which  the  general  had 
referred  on  the  previous  visit. 

It  was  proposed  to  form  a  command  some- 
thing after  the  style  of  the  Old  Guard  of  the 
great Napoh "  -'= """''  '""°  *" 


So,  to  Major  Zagonyi  was  given  the  duty 
of  forming  and  drilling  the  guard,  he  to  act 
Sks  its  leader  when  once  organiared. 

This  scheme  had  been  working  when  Bar- 
low first  saw  Fremont  and  Zagonyi  at  St. 
Louis,  but  the  project  was  not  fully  ripe. 

On  the  occasion  of  his  second  visit,  how- 
ever, all  was  explained  to  him,  and  he  was 
given  a  choice  between  a  captain's  commis- 
In  the  regular  volunteers,  or  a  position  in 
the  guard.  If  he  chose  the  latter,  he  would 
be  no  more  than  a  private,  perhaps,  for  so 
small  a  force  did  not  afford  room  tor  many 

Still,  he  did  not  hesitate.  The  idea  of  the 
organization  thrilled  him.  He  remembered 
the  "  Old  Guard  "  of  Napoleon,  aud  believed 
that  Aluell.UH  sol.liers  w.-,e  e.,ual  to 
Freneli;  lie  « ;is  f^oniiated  by  the  jdea  of 
bein-  ne;ir  Fvuu^uU  nv1i..,„  he  .e  greatly 
admire,!;  and  t..»  uid  Za;:oi,y,  he  «  a.  dia 
by  thi 
brave 

He  made  his 
of  the  guard.  ,  ^  , 

Theu'followed  drilling  which  would  have 
broken  down  less  hardy  men.  Early  and 
lite  Z;e'ouvi  had  his  eomuiand  at  work. 
ite'dniii'iig  on  exeelleiit  material,  he  pushed 
tliMii  raiiuily.  Good  riders  at  the  beginning 
they  were  made  better;  they  were  taught 
how  to  best  use  their  various  weapons;  aud 
in  drilling  they  were  made  remarkably  per- 
fect. ,  .,, 

The  guard  belongs  to  history,  and  we  will 
not  tire  the  reader  with  an  account  of  their 
lite  before  active  service.  Suffice  it  to  say, 
the  work  went  bravely  on. 

Aud  while  they  worked,  Fremont  was 
only  awaiting  for  guus,  men  and  other 
necessaries  to  push  forward  against  the  Con- 
federates, who  were  riding  rough-shot  over 
the  greater  part  of  Missouri. 


ispokeu    boud  which  is   bctwee 
choice,  aud  became  a  memlx 


E.vplauations  ensued,  and  Somers  was  told 
how  near  he  came  to  seeing  his  whole  family 
in  trouble ;  after  which  the  scout  related  his 

^  When  Max  left  the  battlefield  with  Keeler 
and  Ids  men  the  sliarpshooter  was  not  ignor- 
ant .'it  he  Male  of  affairs.  He  had  promptly 
followed  and  Hiieiithev  in.uiuten  and  rode 
away,  lie,  too,  iiiouiited'aiid  hung  as  closely 
on  thi'ir  rear  as  he  dared. 

Befor.' tlie  villace  was  reached,  however, 
aud  while  ^'oiun  at  full  speed,  his  horse  fell 
with  a  bio'keu  fi-i;  aud  left  him  on  foot;  but, 
■jotiutlie  least  disx'ouraged,  he  played  the 
oedestr-au  so  well  that  he  reached  the  Som- 


the  wood, 
revolvers; 


;-hile 


ressed  ;    tout 


and  Max  w 

deal  more 

would  ind 

take  so 

strange-, 

risked  his  life  in  the  Confederate  camp 

astonishing, 

Such  were  the  views    he    expr 
Kiarpshot  only  laughed. 

"Nonseuse!"  he  said.  "Why  should  we 
be  chickens  all  o'  asuddeu  just  acause  we  are 
ightin' the  white  inemies  o' the  old  flag  in- 
it^ad  of  Injuns  ?    What  I  did  was  uothin'." 

Bo  til  men  entered  the  house.  Olive  aud 
Leua  had  retired  early,  but  the  filing  had 
ii-oused  them,  and  they  at  once  appeared. 

Oli  re  met  Barlow  in  a  manner  which 
jlcased  him  greatly.  They  were  to  join  their 
fortunes  iu  life  some  day,  if  they  lived,  and 
ue  was  not  one  to  stand  on  ceremony  or 
liilse  modesty.  ^      ^    ^  ^ 

Lena  stood  looking  at  Sharpshot,  who  had 
■emoved  his  hat  and  thrust  it  under  his  arm. 
I'hcre    was  admiration    on    his    face    as  he 


dies 
ibh 


they  were  something  iL-    .-  .   . 

"Handsome  as  Pocahontas  herself,  they 
be,"  he  said  afterward,  to  Max. 

An  hour  passed  iu  rapid  and  important 
conversation.  The  dwellers  of  the  cottage 
were  told  of  the  peril  from  which  they  had 
so  narrowly  escaped,  and  Barlow  urged  an 
immediate  removal   to   the  village 


6ic„.^,..i. , this  cotumand  was  to 

act  as  a   body-guard   for   Fremont.    They 
were,  however,  to  be  something  more. 

War  was  gathering  force  and  venom 
throughout  the  South.  The  people  of  the 
states  which  had  seceded  from  the  Union 
were  arming  everywhere,  and  as  matters 
then  looked,  hard  fighting  seemed  in  store 
for  the  defenders  of  the  old  flag. 

To  meet  this  emergency,  only  a  compara- 
tively few  regular  soldiers  were  to  be  found 
in  the  United  States.  The  remainder  of  the 
defenders  must  be  gathered  Irora  the  people 
at  large,  and  the  majority  of  them  knew 
very  little  about  war,  the  use  of  arms,  or  the 
proper  handling  of  forces  when  iu  the  field. 
Many  ofBoers,  too,  must  be  chosen  from 
among  these  inexperienced  patriots,  and, 
like  everything  else,  the  true  soldier  is  only 
formed  by  a  complete  knowledge  of  military 
matters  coupled  with  experience.  Hence, 
another  reason  for  the  guard. 

In  forming  the  commaud.  it  was  proposed 
to  make  use  onlv  of  lueu  of  good  character 
and  sufficient  iirtelligenee  to  act  as  officers  if 
ever  occasion  deuiaiided.  They  were  to  be 
carefully  and  thoron-ldy  drilled  and  made 
into  perfect  soldieis  as  soon  as  possible. 

Then,  as  new  .•oiiipaiiies  aud  regiments 
were  formed,  and  olluers  were  ue'ided,  they 
were  to  be  taken  lioiu  the  guard,  which 
would  then  be  kipt  intact  in  numbers  by 
enlistiii-  o(hei>,  and  they,  too,  were  to  be 
pushed  lorward  to  iierfeetion.  , 

Such  was  the  plan  of  Fremont  and  his 
friends— to  have  a  small  but  select  cavalry 
»oop,  perfect  in  all  things  that  go  to  con- 
stitute the  soldier,  aud  with  tiaeh  member 
capable  of  assuming  responsiluTTty  when  oc- 
casion required 

In  putting  this  plan  into  effect,  the  Path- 
finder turned  to  one  man  whose  past  e.x- 
perience  and  soldierly  qualities  made  him 
esiieeiallv  fitted  for  the  work  of  forming 
and  jierfeeling  the  new  organization. 
This  man  was  Charles  Zagonyi. 
As  has  beture  been  stated,  he  was  a  Hun- 
garian, aud  had  seen  active  service  iu  his 
own  country.  Bor*i  with  all  the  iuclina- 
tions  of  a  soldier,  hefhad  added  expenenee  to 
his  natural  gifts,  and  stories  of  his  dashing 
valor  had  drifted  across  the  water  to  the 
country  to  which  he  turned  for  refug 

I  political  reasons  made  hi"  '' 

here  1  Hungary. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  P.^SSAGE  OF  THE  OSAGE. 

It  was  not  until  the  last  of  September  that 
Fremont's  army  was  ready  to  move.  Even 
then,  it  was  not  what  thegeneral  wished,  but 
he  had  used  all  the  means  at  his  command, 
aud  made  it  as  strong  as  possible.  Frequent 
calls  began  to  be  heard  for  an  advance  on 
his  part,  aud  he  prepared  to  go  forward 
with  what  he  had.  .  . 

Several  Confederate  armies  were  in  Mis- 
souri, (ieneral  McCulloch  had  abandoned 
that  fielil  of  operations  and  gone  to  Arkan- 
sas, but  Hardee  was  at  Greenville,  Pillow  at 
New  Ma.bid,  and  Price,  who  had  besieged 
and  captured  Lexington,  held  that  post. 

Guerrilla  liauds,  prominent  among  which 
was  that  of  Jefl  Thompson,  roved  here  and 
there,  and  Keeler's  work  was  frequently 
seen  as  he  aud  his  rough  baud  dashed  about 
with  no  authority    but   their    own  lawless 

Tin-  guard  was  to  aeeompanv  Fremont's 
arniv,a"el,  .if  eourse,  Baiiow  was  b.  be  with 
tlieii'i'  Hi- <..ldierl\- ■inalitie.,  had  so  recom- 
mended hiin  to  Zagonvi.  that  lie  was  already 
about  us  far  as  he 
to    advance   while 


a  seigeant,    wuici 

could    reasonably 

ith  the  guard 


Every  Say  was  increasing  his  admiration 
r  Fre'mont  aud  Zagonyi.    The  grand  Path- 


he  had 
the  Ko 


esteem   in  every  i 

forgot  those  long  tramps 

ugh  the  ice  and  snow  of 


uterval,  he  had  seen  or  heard 
nothing^ from  the  men  who  had  attacked  ■ 
him  in  the  street,  aud,  ha\  nig  decided  that 
they  were  no  more  than  bravos,  lie  had  al- 
most forgotten  the  circumstances  lu  the  ex- 
citement of  the  new  life- 

Occasionally  he  heard  from  the  Somers, 
family  through  letters  from  Olive,  though 
many  she  wrote  never  reached  him.  He  had 
urged  them  to  take  refuge  in  St.  Louis,  but 
Mr.  Somere  was  mildly  obstinate  and  would 
uot  leave  his  village.  Since  the  night  of  his 
discomfiture,  Keeler  had  for  some  reason 
given  the  place  a  wide  berth. 

Tlie  ii-is-iu"  days  had  thrown  uo  light 
^of  Kiltrar  Peterson.  From  the 
-It  hanging  by  the  Ivnchers, 
.    have  '"c-oinnletelv    vanished. 


up. 


exile  from 


Kno'tvi'i'ig'  how  Leua  Was  sorrowing  over 
him.  Barlow  hoped  to  some  day  meet  Sam 
Siiles,  who  had  led  the  mob,  aud  square  the 
account. 

The  Union  armv  was  at  last  ou  the  road. 
Comi.osed  of  twenty  thousaudmeu.ot' whom 
five  thousand  were  cavalry,  it  was  divided 
iiilo  live  divisions  Avhieh  were  commanded 
bv  (ieiiei  als  sii:tl.  Hunter,  P*po,  McKinstry 


river,  the  army 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


13 


September  28,  causing  Price  to  evacuate 
Lexington,  wliich  place  lie  had  held  since 
wresting  it  from  Mulligan. 

Fremont  pressed  on,  and  somewhat  more 
than  two  weeks  later  reached  Warsaw,  where 
he  was  stopped  by  the  swollen  waters  ©f  the 
Osage  River. 

Sigel,  being  at  the  advance,  ciu.-ised  the 
stream    by  swimming  his    hoisi's,    liut    tlie 

footing  for  tlu'iV  passage;  s.i,  t'lu-i.'  hnii^  no 
help  fi)rit,  the  army  halted  tn  luiilihi  briilgp. 
The  forests  were  attacked,  the  ring  of  the 
ax  echoed  instead  of  the  voice  of  the  rifle, 
.md  everything  |was  done  that  was  possible 
to  expedite  the  work. 

At  this  point  came  a  rumor  that  a  partv  of 
Confederates  were  hovering  along  the  srruth- 
ern  banks  of  the  Osage,  presumably  as  s]ii(s 
on  the  movements  of  the  Unionists,  and 
Sergeant  Barlow  was  directed  to  take  twenty 
of  the  guard  and  investigate  the  matter. 

They  swam  their  horses  across  the  river 
and,  striking  harder  soil,  set  off  ou  the  ven- 
ture. 

A  hardy  and  noticeable  lot  of  men  were 
they  who  followed  our  hero.  Great  care  had 
been  used  in  selecting  them,  and  with  their 
fine  faces  and  ioinis,  their  dress  a  simple  one 
of  imadorned  blue,  no  one  could  have  found 
A  fault  in  their  appearance. 

Not  long  had  they  been  on  the  way  when 
they  were  overtaken  by  Sharpshot,  who 
bore  a  brief  note  from  the  Pathfinder.  It 
simply  said  that,  at  his  own  request,  the 
scout  had  b.-en  added  to  the  party. 

Barlow  was  j.loas.  .1  at  this,  for  he  had 
learuoil  to  tiust  th.-inan  and  believed  in  his 

sagacity,  and  c  more  they  went  forward. 

Their  atbntion  had  been  directed  to  a 
small  villat-'c  ( i-ht  miles  south  of  the  Osage, 
and  they  wcic  not  long  in  nearing  the  place. 
Ko  enemy  had  Ijct-u  .seen  on  the  way. 

Just  to  the  iioitli  of  the  village  was  a  hill 
of  someelevalioii,  and  as  they  arrived  at  the 
top,  Barlow  lialtid  his  nun  and  looked  down 
en  the  houses  iio.l  f  li,-  >ini-ts. 

All  looked  im:i,, till  and  ciuict,  and  he  was 
beginning  to  think  tliat  lio  soldiers  were 
there  wlieulir  t  au^;l]t  si-lit  of  an  old, familiar 

He  had  so.)i  ,-ono'iliinir  v.-ry  liiuc'h  like  it 
before,  though  h.>  nii^ilit  !.<• 'niistakeu  ;  he 
believed  it  was  tin-  idliitioii  of  a  light 
striking  on  a  bayonet.  l!a\oiiitv,  however, 
when  they  move  aliui^' a  stioot  a^  ilds  glim- 
mer was  doing,  nsuallv  li;no  a  aian  near 
them,  butin  this  case  noiluni;  wa^  visible. 

Only  for  a  moment  was  Max  at  faidt.  The 
glimmer,   which  was  composed  of   several 

Soints,  went  steadily  along  the  street,  and 
e  soon  suspected  that  there  was  a  hank  of 
earth  near  it,  just  high  enough  to  hide  the 
men,  just  lo  w  enough  to  reveal  the  bayonets. 

"Nine  or  ten  soldiers,  I  reckon,"  thought 
the  sergeant. 

He  had  hardly  arrived  at  the  decision  when 
the  party  emerged  fi-oin  cover  and  he  dis- 
tinguished scvoial  iiion  ill  i 'onfederate gi-ay 
marching aloii^'  m  i; 1  order. 

Sharpshot  loolv.ilat  lii~  leader  anxiously. 
That  look  stn^nn-d  to  ask  j)ermissiou  for  an 
immediate  charge,  but  Barlow  desired  more 
time. 

He  watched  the  enemy. 

They  marched  forward  for  nearly  a  hun- 
dred yards  and  then  halted  in  front  of  the 
largest  private  house  in  the  village.  Then 
one,  who  f)ore  a  sword  instead  of  a  musket, 
walked  to  the  door  and  applied  the  knocker. 

It  was  opeiinl,  thou:.:h  Barlow  could  not 
see  bv  whom;  a  ImIiI  pause  ensued;  and 
then  the  othcci  cut. aid  the  house  and  the 
other  men  nianhcd  around  to  one  side, 
where  an  outluiildiiig  hid  themfromview 
of  the  watch,)  s,  and  all  w. re  out  of  sight. 

All  this  was  ,,r  ii.toirst  to  Barlow.  He 
slowly  tu]-iiod  in  t ho  sharpshooter. 

"  What  do  v- II  iiiako.if  it?" 

"Oh!  them  wasthoiritterswearehuntiu', 
sure  enough,"  was  the  reply. 

"A  few  more  questions:  Do  you  suppose 
there  are  any  more  in  thevillage?  Why  do 
you  supptise  they  have  gone  to  that  house? 
Are  they  worth  catching?" 

"  I  opine  thar  arc  only  them,  an' it's  my 
idee  they  are  among  friends.  M.-bbc,  the 
owner  of  the  mansion  is  goin' ter  give  them 
a  feed.  Et  thar  ain't  any  more  o'  the  kind 
'round  hyar,  it  would  Ije  a  proijer  good  idee 
ter  gobble  them.     Scch  are  my  sentiments." 

"  You  touch  hard-itan  every  time,  Shari>- 
shot.  I  am  inclined  to  think  you  have  tuld 
the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  else.  Now,  I 
think  I  will  leave  you  all  here,  while  I  go  on 
a  scout,  and  learn  if  there  are  really  any 
more  men  about  the  village." 

"That's  my  part  o'  the  work,"  said  the 
icout,  eagerly. 

"  Just  as  you  say ;  I'm  too  lazy  to  object. 


Away  .vou  go,  and  we'll  wait  for  you  here." 

So  the  scout,  who  was  clad  in  the  butter- 
nut-colored garments  which  told  no  tales, 
went  quietly  away,  and  Max  drew  his 
troopers  a  little  back  out  of  sight  and 
awaited. 

Halt  an  hour  later,  Sharpshot  returned. 
He  had  not  seen  a  soldier  during  his  ab- 
sence, but  he  had  heard  it  said  that  Mr. 
Yeatou,  the  owner  of  the  mansion  before 
oliserved,  was  entertaining  a  dozen  Con- 
federates in  his  house. 

Barlow's  resolution  was  ipiickly  taken. 
He  again  inonuted  his  men,  and  they  moved 
from  the  hill  down  into  the  village. 

Their  an  aval  creatc<l  s,.mc  excitement 
among  the  peojile,  and,  while  many  came 
boldly  out  to  \i.w  tlieni,  others  were  not  so 
liolil,  and  o\  or;.  ilo"i  and  window  was  filled 
with  llir>o  iiiur,'  timid  observers.  Quite  a 
nuiiiliei-  ol  hardy  men  were  visible,  for  Mis- 
souri had  many  men  not  then  in  arms,  but 
the  greater  j)art  of  the  inhabitants  seemed  to 
be   women   and   children,    with  a    generous 

All  \v,re  ;iiixious  to  see  the  T'nion  soldiers. 

Nolio>iiriiv  was  shown  them.  Someblack 
looks  \veivl.esiowed  as >u I ist i t lit es  f or blows, 
but  r.arlo«-shivw,llysiis|ieeted  that  half  the 
jieople  were  friendly  to  the  cause  of  the 
Union. 

Without  addressing  any  one,  the  guard 
marched  to  the  mansion.  Not  a  person  was 
■visible.  It  had  been  expected  that  the  com- 
mon soldiers  of  the  party  they  had  seen 
would  be  outside,  but  they  had  either  enter- 
ed the  outhouse  or  the  mansion  proper. 

Directing  his  men  to  surround  the  house, 
and  allow  no  one  to  escape.  Barlow  rode 
near  the  door,  dismounted,  and  applied  the 
knocker. 

It  fell  dully  on  the  heavy  door.  He  waited 
patiently  for  a  response,  but  none  came. 
Again  he  knocked.  Once  more  all  was  dead 
silence  inside  the  house.  Outside,  the  mem- 
bers of  the  guard  sat  quietly  and  awaited 
the  result. 

For  the  third  time  Barlow  raised  the 
knocker,  and  this  time  he  sounded  a  double 


An  i 
a  gr 
them 

"  Who  dar?"  demanded  the  man. 

"A  friend  and  a  brother,"  said  Barlow, 
with  a  sudden  rush  of  facetiousness ;  then, 
more  earnestly:  "I  want  to  see  your  mas- 
ter." 

"  He  am  not  in,  sah." 

"  Open  the  door,  or  I'll  burst  it  in !"  shouts 
ed  the  angry  Unionist,  at  the  same  time 
emphasizing  his  remarks  by  a  kick  at  the 

■■  llok  .Ml,  .i;ii ,  hoi'  ou!"  cried  the  negro,  in 
altiiiii.  '  Irii  I  spile  de  paint,  sah.  I'll  let 
yon  ill,  but  .laramno  sojers  here.  Jest  you 
see  fur  yourself,  sah." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

B.\KL0W    GETS    INTO   TROUBLE. 

The  win. low  closed,  there  was  a  period  o* 
silence,  an. I  then  a  shiilllini;  ..f  feet  sounded 
bey. .11(1  tlm  do..r,  a  k.-y  was  applied,  the 
lo.'k  cli.-keil  as  it  shot  back,  the  door  swung 
open,  and  Barlow  again  saw  the  old  negro. 

He  was  a  dilapidated  lookiug  old  fellow  of 
advanced  years  and  evident  bodily  weak- 
ness, but  iSarlow,  looking  at  his  wrinkled 
face,  was  unable  to  decide  whether  he  was 
an  honest  man  or  a  rogue. 

" 'Fore  de  Lord!"  he  said,  "Ihatesa^vfuUy 
to  let  you  uns  in.  Ole  massa  will  skin  me 
alive." 

The  Unionist  was  on  the  point  of  remind- 
ing him  that  beauty  was  but  skin-deep,  but 
he  checked  the  unkind  remark  and  substi- 
tuted another. 

"lam  not  so  sure    that  your   master  is 


ropi. 


bi..ii'^hl  th.-iii  inside.  The  venerable  negro 
h.'hl  up  his  haiiila  in  horror  at  the  prospect- 
iv.'  sa.iil.-g.-,  but  his  period  of  remonstrance 

Barlow  weut  about  his  work  systematic- 
ally. The  house  was  composed  of  two  richly 
furnished  Hats,  a  rough  attic,  and  a  spacious 
cellar.  All  tiiese  places  were  examined,  one 
after  the  othur,  but  not  a  human  being  was 

The  aged  negro  seemed  to  be  the  only  oc- 
cupant of  the  house. 

Next,  the  outhouse  was  searched,  but  that 
was  simpler  than  the  first,  and  offered  no 
possible  hiding  place. 


they  could  hide  from  a  possible  enemy,  and 
he  believed  such  to  be  the  present  ease. 

Possibly  the  Confederate  soldiers  had 
slipped  away,  but  he  believed  they  were 
still  about  the  premises, 

"  Uncle,"  he  said,  confronting  the  negro, 
"  you  have  been  deceiving  me." 

"No,  sah;  dat  is  not  so.  lis  only  a  poor 
ole  niggah,  but  I  is  a  gentleman  ob  my  word. 
Dar  is  no  sojer-mans  hyar,  an'  dar  was  no- 
body hyar  butme  afore' you  come." 

The  assertion  was  stoutly  made,  and  the 
man  seemed  anxious  to  be  believed. 

Still,  Barlow  was  not  convinced.  Matters 
seemed  too  clear  for  doubt,  and  he  would 
have  been  willing  to  bet  a  good  sum  that 
the  house  had  a  secret  room,  or  that  a  sec- 
ond cellar  adjoined  the  first. 

"  Lead  the  way  to  your  master's  library 
again."  he  said. 


"Not  to  any  great 
and  you  will  Hn.l  m 

Thenegrobegaiiai 
Max  cut  him  sh..i 
when  they  first  visi  1 1 
iutoseeonlvl k-1; 


.i,.ii:" 

ii-tiaiiee,but 
.il.,i...l  that 
.•  I. a.l  looked 
id  scant  fur- 
ioser  inspec- 
n  only  went 


uiture,  butthepla.  I'.h-, 
tiou;  and  the  slav.  s  . 
to  increase  Bai  lows  su- 

Slowly  the  negro  le.  1 1  he  way  to  the  librai-y, 
and  they  entered.  Barlow  paused  and 
looked  around. 

As  has  been  said,  the  room  was  simple  In 
all  except  its  display  of  books.  These  were 
numerous.  Shelves  ran  around  and  around 
the  walls,  and  ever.v  niche  was  packed  with 
the  precious  volumes.  It  was  the  largest 
private  library  our  hero  had  ever  seen. 

The  furniture  consisted  of  a  wi-iting-desk, 
atableand  three  chairs;  tli.' wallsweremod- 
estly  iiapered,  and  on  tlm  II. ...r  was  a  rich, 
yielding  carpet,  curiously  limn.  .1  with  large 
squares  and  small  scroll-w.nk  b.  I  w.-eii. 

All  thisseemed  simple  cn.nigh.aud  more 
like  the  den  of  a  student  tlian  that  of  plot- 
ters, but  Barlow  had  come  to  test  the  ques- 
tion. 

Going  to  one  of  the  shelves,  he  saw  before 
him  copies  of  Shakespeare,  Milton  and  their 
class,  while  just  above  were  the  heavy  scien- 
tific  works  of   the   great   thinkers    of  the 

"Don't  touch  de  books,  sah,"  said  the 
negro  again. 

The  s.'i  g.aiit  lii.l  ii..t  answer.  He  made  a 
circuit.it  tlier.i.im,  sounded  the  walls  where 
he  coul.l  an. I  r.tl.  .ic.l  somewhat.  He  looked 
wi.sc  while  doing  so,  and  theblack  manmust 
have  be.-n  deeply  impressed. 

Still,  he  was  soon  obliged  to  confess  to 
himself  that  there  was  no  sign  of  a  secret 
room,  or  any  siie.ies  of  Ih.liug  place. 

The  mystery  grew  deeper. 

He  began  to  feel  angry,  and  inclined  to 
make  the  negro  t.-u  the  truth.  He  turned 
toward  thi- old  fellow  with  afrown  (fu  his 
face,  but  it  was  fated  that  he  shotdd  never 


press  1 1 
As  h.' 


ji'  walls  began  to  move, 
■.  i\ed  him,  and  then  he 
ige  sinking  sensation.  All 
tor  his  first  thought  was 
-.1  by  dizziii.-ss,  a"-trauge 
IX  Harlow:  bar,  b.ll.iwing 

•alization  of 't'lii' truth.    " 


When  he  fully  perceived  this,  he  threiv 
out  his  hands  in  an  attempt  to  grasp  some- 
thing soli. 1,  but  only   empty   air  was  svithin 


The  portion  of  the  floor  sank  quickly  and 
surely,  and  then  Barlow  shot  downward. 

The  tall  was  one  of  twelve  feet,  but  he 
was  fortunate  enough  to  strike  upon  his 
feet,  and  though  he  lost  his  balance  and  fell, 
he  was  quickly  up  again  and  uninjuied. 

A  strange  scene  was  before  aud  around 
him.  He  had  entered  a  room  wtiich  was 
twenty  feet  sciuare  and  well  lighted,  but  the 
only  furniture  was  composed  of  two  chairs  ; 
the  floor  and  walls  were  of  heavy  planks,  and 
nowhere  was  there  any  sign  of  a  door. 

He  did  not  see  all  this  at  first  glance,  fop 
his  gaze  at  once  became  fixed  upon  a  mai» 


14 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


-who,  with  himself,  made  the  sole  occupants 
of  the  room. 

This  man  was  most  peculiar  in  his  appeal^ 
auce.  Of  middle  age,  he  was  rather  below 
the  average  size,  but  his  frame  was  compact 
*iid  sinewy,  and  age  had  uot  seemed  to  de- 
crease his  strength  and  activity.  His  face 
was  thin  and  dark,  he  wore  a  long  mustache 
which  pointed  bacls  toward  his  ears,  and  a 
long  goatee,  both  of  which  were  coal-black 


ble  point  of  interest.  Large,  black,  spark- 
ling— they  had  a  glitter  and  wildness  which 
might  have  come  of  auger  or  mental  dis- 
turbance. 

Even  then.  Barlow  thought  how  much  he 
looked  like  a  French  sword-master  he  had 
once  known  in  St.  Louis,  but  little  time  was 
given  for  reflection. 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  the  unknown,  while 
his  open  lips  showed  snow-white  teeth  which 
looked  ominous,  somehow.  "You  take  a 
sti-ange  way  of  entering  my  abode,  but  I  am 
right  glad  to  see  you." 

"And  who  the  dickens  are  you?"  the  as- 
tonished soldier  demanded. 

"  Don't  you  know  me?" 

"No." 

"Well,  I  might  claim  to  be  Cicero  or 
Plato,  or  Alexander  the  Great,  but  to  come 
right  down  to  business,  I  am  named  Yeaton, 
and  am  the  owner  of  this  house." 

"Ah!    I  have  been  lookingfor  you." 

"  Well,  you've  found  me,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Are  you  satisfied?" 

"  Partially." 

"  What  more  do  you  want  ?" 

"I  have  found  one  secret  room,  with  an 
occupant,  and  now  I  want  to  find  another. 
I  want  the  soldiers  you  have  concealed 
here." 

"  Go  and  find  them,  sir." 

The  man  spoke  with  all  the  calmness  in 
the  world ;  but  as  Barlow  looked  around,  he 
saw  only  the  plain  plank  walls.  There  was 
no  sign  of  a  door.  He  looked  back  at  Yea- 
ton,  to  see  a  sneering  smile  on  his  face. 

"  You  will  first  have  to  explain  your  trap 
tome,"  the  soldier  bluntly  said. 

"  Easily  and  quickly  done.  I  have  no  in- 
tention of  hedging  you  iu  with  mystery. 
I  am  a  Southern  man  and  true  to  the  cause. 
My  whole  life  and  hope  is  bound  up  in  the 
grand  struggle  my  fellow  citizens  are  mak- 
ing for  liberty.  Such  being  the  case,  I  love 
those  who  are  fighting  under  the  new  flag, 
and  hate  those  who  uphold  the  old.  Believ- 
ing that  war  would,  sooner  or  later,  surge 
around  this  region,  I  had  a  secret  room 
made  for  a  place  of  refuge.  Here  it  is! 
You  have  called  it  a  den— how  do  you  like 
it?" 

"  It  is  well  enough  for  you,"  said  Barlow, 
dubiously. 

"  Ah !  'But  you  don't  like  it !  Good  !  Ton 
have  cause  to  dislike  it,  for  it  is  poison  to  all 
of  your  faith.  Now,  I'll  tell  you  more.  I 
have  Confederate  soldiers  in  this  house,  but 
they  cannot  be  found.  I  concealed  them 
when  I  saw  you  coming,  and  then,  myself, 
retired  to  this  den,  leaving  Pompey  to  do 
the  work  above.  But,  young  man,  you 
were  too  inquisitive,  and  that  is  why  you 
are  now  a  prisoner  in  my  den." 


CHAPTER  XA'II. 

FIGHT   WITH 


Barlow  was  beginning  to  recover  his  wits. 
The  fall  he  had  received,  coupled  with  the 
encounter  with  this  strange  man,  had  for 
the  time  bewildered  him  somewliat,  but  as 
his  self-possession  came  back,  it  was  accom- 
panied by  anger  at  fluding  himself  iu  such  a 
situation. 

"Am  I  a  prisoner?"  he  demanded,  in  an- 
swer to  Yeaton's  last  remark. 

"Yes." 

"My  opinion  is  different.  With  my  wea- 
pons "iu  my  hands  and  a  score  of  soldiers 
outside,  I  consider  myself  master  of  the 
situation." 

Yeaton's  eyes  flashed  with  new  wildness. 

"  Ha— ha  !  You  never  uiade  a  greater  mis- 
take, young  man.  You  are  like  a  silly  fly  iu 
the  web  of  a  spider.  Very  likely  you  think 
my  den  no  more  than  a  romantic  whim 
which " 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  know  of  others " 

"Wait.  You  know  of  none  equal  to  this. 
The  trap  through  which  you  fell  is  in  itself 
a  marvel.  See !  The  door  has  sprung  back 
in  plaoe,  and  if  one  of  y^our  soldiers  enters 
the  room  above,  he  will  suspect  nothing. 
Did  you  notice  that  the  carpet  was  marked 
in  squares?  One  of  these  is  just  the  size  of 
the  trap-door.    The  latter  falls,  the  piece  of 


carpeting  goes  with  it ;  the  door  springs 
back,  and  the  square  of  carpet  fits  into 
place.    Is  that  cunning,  or  not?" 


Middle  Ages,  but  it  is  all  in  earnest.  Young 
man,  when  you  entered  here  you  were 
doomed.    You  are  now  the  same  as  dead. 


rible  and  unnatural.  His  eyes  glittered  like 
coals  of  fire,  his  parted  lips  revealed  his 
teeth,  his  expression  was  like  that  of  Meph- 
istopheles  in  his  sneering,  triumphant  mood. 

Barlow  was  alTected  but  not  frightened. 
One  thing  was  certain — the  man  was  as  crazy 
as  iiny  lunatic  iu  a  straight-jacket,  and  he 
would  have  to  be  dealt  with  accordingly. 

"  I  object  to  that  part  of  the  programme," 
he  coolly  said.  "  You  mustn't  sadde  a  horse 
you  can't  ride,  Mr.  Yeaton.  I  hate  to  inter- 
fere with  your  plans  concerning  the  plant- 
ing of  your  crops,  but  I  prefer  to  be  counted 
out." 

The  smile  vanished  from  Yeaton's  face. 

"We  shall  see,"  he  said. 

He  strode  to  the  shelf  on  which  stood  the 
lamp  which  lighted  the  room,  and  from  its 
further  part  produced  a  sword.  He  rested 
its  point  on  the  plank  floor,  and  proved  its 
wondrous  material  by  bending  it  almost 
double. 

"  You  are  to  fight  against  that  sword,"  lie 
said.  "You  see  that  you  cannot  break  it; 
I  will  soon  convince  you  that  you  cannot 
pass  my  guard,  while  if  it  comes  to  a  ques- 
tion of  strength  of  wrist,  I  will  surprise  you. 
Draw!" 

Barlow  was  not  reluctant.  He  was  tiring 
of  the  delay,  and  anxious  to  rejoin  his  men. 
He  drew  his  own  sword  with  a  spiteful  hiss 
as  it  rubbed  along  the  scabbard,  and  threw 
himself  into  the  easy  position  of  a  practiced 
swordsman. 

"Thisia  to  1)0  to  the  death,"  said  Yeaton, 
who  had  sudd.-ntlv  ^-rown  ,aliii,-r. 

"  To  tlic  ileath  !"■  it,"  ivtnrti-.l  Barlow,  in- 
wardly vcnviufr,  even  as  1k'  spoke,  that  the 
man  should  live  to  guide  him  from  this  pen 
of  his  mad  braiu's  creation. 

Yeaton  moved  forward  and  looked  his  op- 
ponent fairly  in  the  eyes.  In  his  own  black, 
glittering  orbs  was  still  a  strange  fire,  and 
Barlow  was  more  than  t'vei-  lonviiici'd  that 
hewasmentally dciaiiL_'.'il.  Hclore  that  jxlari-, 
one  less  strong  of  mind  than  hiiosi'lf  would 
have  quailed,  but  Max  liarlc.w  had  looked 
into  the  eyes  of  a  forest  iianther  just  before 
they  closed  in  deadly  combat,  and  he  was 
not  one  to  tremble  before  man. 

Still,  he  saw  how  perfect  was  Yeaton's 
position,  and  suspected  that  warm  work 
was  ahead. 


Yeaton  struck  heavily,  then  made  a  cunning 
feint,  so  closely  followed  by  a  lounge  that, 
as  Bai-low  passed  it  ofif,  one  of  the  buttons  of 
his  coat  was  touched. 

His  opponent  smiled  grimly.  Self-confi- 
dence, and  a  complete  belief  in  his  destined 
triumph  were  expressed  in  that  smile,  but 
Max  did  not  waver.  His  narrow  escape 
had  taught  him  caution ;  and,  realizing  that 
he  had  met  a  skillful  foeman,  he  put  every 
nerve  into  action. 

Yeaton  pressed  the  fighting.  His  move- 
ments were  quick  and  the  acme  of  science. 
His  hand  moved  easily  at  the  wrist,  and  his 
strokes  were  l^ewilderiug.  He  drove  Bar- 
low slowly  around  the  room,  and  with  feint 
and  thrust  strove  to  ship  through  his  guard. 

Grand,  indeed,  was  his   work;  but  before 
the  Unionist  there  seemed  to  be  a  wall  of 
dea^ 

skill 
and  coolness. 

Such  a  combat,  if  made  in  an  arena,  would 
have  aroused  the  enthusiasm  of  the  specta- 
tors to  wild  applause. 

Yeaton    warmed    to   his   work,     llis   play 


still  neither  had  received  a  s.ratil 
His  want  of  success  served  lo  in 
ton,  but  it  did  not  lessen  his  ill- 
He  began  to  utter  a  cry  ativiay 
heaped  offensive  terms  upon  his  fo 
lauglied  aud  snarled  alternately. 
If  th»re  had  been  any  doubt  as 
sanity  before,  it  was  now  gone. 
was  as  mad  as  a  lunatic  could  be. 


Never  before  had  Max  Barlow  been  so 
hai-d  pressed,  and  he  knew  that  his  life  hung 
on  a  slender  thread.  At  any  moment  the 
madman  might  penetrate  his  guard ;  while, 
on  his  own  part,  he  was  mlling  to  conf ens  he 
could  not  draw  blood.. 

His  only  hope  lay  in  his  superior  strength 
and  youth,  and  these  things,  opposed  to  the 
unnatural  prowess  of  a  maniac,  might  not 
avail  him  anything. 

It  was  a  grand,  but  terrible,  flght— a  battle 
for  life  between  men  who  were  masters  of 
every  device  known  in  the  use  of  swords. 

At  last  Barlow  began  to  feel  its  effects.  He 
had  not  spoken  a  word  since  beginning,  but 
his  breathing  was  not  so  clear  as  at  first,  and 
his  arm  ached  from  shoulder  to  finger-tips. 

Neither  could,  by  any  law  of  nature,  hold 
out  much  longer. 

Yeaton's  fury  did  not  for  a  moment  abate, 
and  the  other  had  pood  cause  to  remem- 
ber that  he  had  said  it  was  to  be  a  fight  to 
the  death. 

The  crisis  came  when  neither  of  them  was 
looking  for  it.  While  giving  way.  Barlow 
suddenly  felt  his  heel  strike  against  some- 
thing. He  reeled  back,  but,  making  a  gi-and 
effort,  would  have  recovered  his  balance 
had  not  the  madman,  seeing  his  accident, 
sprung  forward  like  a  tiger. 

He  made  a  desperate  lunge — one  which 
Max  barely  parried— and  the  effort  necessary 
to  turn  it  aside  completed  the  Unionist's 
misfortune,  and  he  lost  his  balance  entirely 
and  fell  to  the  floor. 

Then  Yeaton  once  more  sprung  forward, 
his  sword  ready  for  the  fatal  thrust,  only  to 
have  Barlow  raise  himself  on  one  elbow 
and  parry  his  furious  effort. 

Then  began  another  desperate  struggle, 
this  time  with  the  odds  all  against  our  hero, 
for  he  could  neither  gain  his  feet  nor,  in  his 
present  position,  long  hope  to  beat  off  the 
maniac. 

It  looked  very  much  as  though  Zagonyi 
was  destined  to  lose  a  sergeant  of  the  guard. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   POOL    OF   BLOOD. 

Meanwhile,  matters  bearing  on  Barlow's 
fortunes  were  transpiring  outside  and  with- 
in the  house. 

When  the  sergeant  went  with  the  old  negro 


bisl 


left  the  remainder 

liii;.'  Sharpshot,  so  far 

]!■  tia]  it  hat  they  heard 


.Just outside  the  house,  however,  was  one 
of  the  guard,  who  had  been  left  to  protect 
the  front  door.  Other  troopers  were  near 
at  hapd,  but  he,  only,  stood  near  the  build- 
ing. 

It  was  at  least  half  an  hour  from  the  time 
when  Barlow  and  his  searching  party  enter- 
ed, that  the  guard  began  to  hear  strange 
sounds.  What  occasioned  them,  and  where 
they  came  from,  he  was  for  some  time  at  a 
loss  to  know. 

The  noise  was  a  little  like  the  dull  clank- 
ing of  machinery,  but  though  the  soldier 
looked  around  to  the  four  points  of  the  com- 
pass, he  could  see  nothing  which  explained 
their  source. 

He  grew  puzzled  and  interested,  and  care- 
fully analyzed  the  sounds.  As  a  result,  he 
finally  decided  that  they  must  proceed  from 
the  cellar  of  the  mansion. 

So  far,  all  was  clear;  but,  what  caused 
them? 

He  listened  further,  and  gained  a  sudden 
suspicion.  Dull  .and  muffled  as  the  sounds 
were,  be  came  to  believe  that  men  were 
fiirhting  with  swords  in  a  subterranean  place. 

Having  arrived  at  this  suspicion,  he  be- 
came anxious  for  the  safety  of  those  within; 
and  when  he  saw  Sharpshot  through  a  win- 
dow, apparently  perfectly  serene  in  hia 
mind,  he  hastened  to  call  to  him. 

The  sharpshooter  came,  heard,  was  him- 
self at  first  puzzled,  but  finally  ended  by  fall- 
ing into  line  with  his  companion's  views.  He, 
however,  was  at  once  alarmed.  Unless  the 
signs  of  the  times  were  out  of  joint.  Max 
Barlow  was  in  trouble  somewhere. 

He  turned  and  darted  back  inside  the 
house.  .  .,        , 

"We've  sat  still  too  long!"  he  muttered, 
angrily,  "an'  this  is  the  result.  The  var- 
mints are  pilin'  outer  the  segeant  hot,  I'm 

Taliiu^'aflairs  into  his  own  hands.  Sharp- 
shut  .sent  three  men  to  the  cellar,  while,  with 
two  others,  he  went  to  the  library,  to  which 
room  he  knew  Barlow  had  gone  when  ho 
left  him.  . 

The  apartment  was  unoccupied,  and,  aa 
before,  no  sign  was  there  of  the  treacherous 
trap ;  but  up  from  the  depths  still  came  that 


THE  WA.R  LIBRARY. 


15 


dull,  clanging  sound.  It  seemed  to  be  di- 
rectly beneath  the  library. 

A  man  came  up  from  the  cellar  to  say  that 
the  claueing  was  to  be  heard  there,  but  toat 
beyond  the  solid  cellar  wall. 
•  red  the  scout, 
ay,  but  before  here- 
turned  the  elangiug  ceased,  and  all  was  dead 
silence  beneath  them. 

"The  aght  Is  over,"  said  one  of  the  guard. 
'  "How  has  it  ended?"  asked  one  of  the 
others,  with  a  gloomy  air  which  spoke  plain- 
er than  words. 

"Death  to  them  devils  ef  they  have  done 
the  sergeant  harm !"  hissed  Sharpshot. 

The  ax  was  brought,  and,  without  hesita- 
tion, he  attacked  the  flooring.  The  carpet 
was  torn  up,  aud  the  boards  lienejilh  found 
to  l>earmuged  in  the  same  deceptive  s^juarcs 
that  formed  the  figures  of  the  cai  pet. 

Mad  Yeatou  had  planned  cunningly. 

Sharps h .It,  however,  used  his.i.x  promptly, 
and  soon  made  a  breach  in  the  floor.  Two 
layers  of  boards  he  removed,  and  then,  be- 
low them  yawned  a  black  hole  from  which 
came  no  light. 

A  lamp  was  then  brought,  attached  to  a 
cord  and  lowered.  It  went  down  something 
like  twelve  feet,  and  revealed  a  square  room, 
the  floor  and  sides  of  which  were  of  plank- 
ing; but  the  place  had  no  occupant. 

sun  it  was  evident  that  the  fighting,  if 
fighting  it  had  been,  had  come  from  there, 
and  Sharpshot  resolved  to  investigate  furth- 
ev.    The  secret  den  was  in  itself  suspicious. 

A  ladder  was  found  and  lowered,  after 
which  the  scout  and  one  other  man  descend- 
ed. They  looked  about,  but  there  was  no 
sign  of  any  human  beings  except  themselves. 
They  sounded  the  walls,  and  found  them  ap- 
parently firm  on  all  sides. 

"  Shoot  me,  ef  it  ain't  queer!"  muttered 
Sharpshot. 

His  companion  silently  shook  his  head.  A 
rigid  search  had  failed  to  find  any  sign  of 
Barlow  or  the  old  negro  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  house,  and  the  fighting  and  its  ending 
gave  the  matter  a  dark  aud  ominous  aspect. 

"  I'll  burn  the  house  down  ef  he  ain't 
found,"  continued  thesharpsbooter. 

'■  Aud  so  burn  the  sergeant  also.' 

"Sure  enough;  I  didn't  think  of  that." 

The  speaker  looked  keenly  around  the 
room.  If  there  had  been  fighting  there,  it 
might  have  left  some  sign. 

"Ha!" 

Sharpshot  uttered  a  cry,  and  strode  to  one 
side  of  the  den.  Upon  the  plank  he  had  seen 
some  object  which  showed  redly  on  the  dull- 
white  floor,  and  the  sight  aroused  a  sus- 
picion. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  the  latter  asked. 

He  strode  forward,  and  then,  after  a  brief 
survey,  turned  a  pair  of  startled  eyes  on  his 

"  Blood!"  almost  whispered  the  scout. 

Then  they  stood  together  over  a  dark,  red 
pool  of  something  which  was  certainly 
blood,  and  which  looked  terribly  suggestive 
just  then. 

"They  have  murdered  the  sergeant!" 
gasped  Sharpshot. 

"One  moment's  silence  reigned  in  the  den, 
aud  then  the  second  man  raised  his  head. 

"  Bring  spades  aud  picks !"  he  said,  husk- 
ily, "and  we  will  tear  this  place  in  pieces. 
It  will  never  do  to  have  men  say  thatZagon- 
yi'sguard  was  thus  outwitted !" 


Meanwhile  what  had  become  of  Max  Bar- 
low ?  Had  he  really  been  slain  and  left  his 
llfebloort  on  the  floor? 

■\Velctt  him  fighting  the  maniac,  irZaRich- 
ard  lit.,  resting  nil  his  liip  and  elbow,  and 
onlv  beutiiiir  nif  tliat  fiirinus  attack  with  the 
utmost  ilitliculty. 

He  believed  iliat  his  hist  moment  had 
oome.  He  could  not  long  hope  to  success- 
fully oppose  Yeaton  while  in  that  position, 
and  every  blow  would  serve  to  exhaust  still 
further  his  already  rapidly  waning  amount 
of  strength. 

Still,  he  fought  bravely,  and  as  the  maniac 
eut  aud  slashed  furiously  above  him,  met 
each  thrust  with  admirable  skill.  If  he 
eould  only  regain  his  feet. 

Acting  on  a  s\iddeu  idea,  he  watched  his 
opportunity,  aud  made  a  thrust  at  the  mad- 
man's legs. 

His  aim  was  good,  and  he  felt  his  sword 
pierce  flesh,  but  Yeaton  did  not  spring  back 
as  he  had  expected.  On  the  contrary,  he 
merely  uttered  a  curse  and  pressed  the  fight 
more  hotly. 

Barlow  began  to  feel  terribly  weak. 
He  was  almost  tempted  to  abandon  the  bat- 
tle and  meet  his  fate,  but  he  did  not  yield  to 
the  weakness.    He  fought  on. 

Suddenly,    however,    the   scene  changed. 


Yeaton  receded  from  the  front,  and  Barlow 
thought  he  had  leaped  back,  bnt  as  the  ser- 
geant seized  the  opportunity  to  regain  his 
feet,  he  saw  the  madman  struggling  iu  the 
grasp  of  a  third  man,  who  had  seized  him 
from  behind  and  saved  Barlow ;  but  the 
movemeut  had  brought  himself  into  a  des- 
perate struggle  where  he  seemed  likely  to 
get  the  worst  of  it. 

"•Quick,  here!"  he  said,  to  the  sergeant. 
"  Give  me  your  help,  but  do  not  injure  him 
bodily." 

Barlow  did  Hot  recognize  the  speaker,  hut 
he  hastened  to  his  aid,  and  they  united  their 
strength  against  Yeaton.  The  result  proved 
the  unnatural  prowess  which  madness  gives 
to  men.  Y'catou  was  a  middle-aged  man, 
who  would  weigh  less  than  a  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds,  while  both  of  his  opponents 
were  years  younger  and  twenty  pounds 
heavier. 

Still,  with  these  odds  against  him,  the 
maniac  made  a  long  and  desperate  struggle, 
and  when  they  finally  succeeded  in  over- 
powering aud"  holdiu'g  him  on  the  floor, 
they  were  panting  like'chase-tired  hounds. 

Evideutlytbe  new-comer  had  been  look- 
ing to  the  future,  fur  he  at  once  produced  a 
quantity  of  cords  which  were  wound  around 
the  madman  until  he  was  helpless. 

Then  the  uuknowB  went  to  the  eastern 
side  of  the  room,  manipulated  the  planks 
for  a  momeut,  after  which  they  receded  aud 
revealed  a  narrow  opening  like  a  door. 
This  done,  he  turned  to  Barlow. 

"  Let  us  bear  him  through,"  he  said. 

It  was  done,  though  Yeatou  ground  his 
teeth  and  looked  the  personification  of  fury. 
As  their  lifted  him.  Max  saw  on  the  plank  a 
pool  ot  blood,  which  had  dripped  from  the 
wound  iu  his  leg,  but  it  was  not  alarming, 
and  a  subsequent  examination  showed  that 
Barlow's  sword  had  merely  pricked  the 
fiesh. 

Passing  through  the  opening,  they  entered 
another  room,  which  was  ten  feet  square. 
At  one  side  stood  abed,  and  upon  this  they 
placed  their  prisoner. 

The  stranger  closed  the  door,  and,  retirrn- 
ing  to  the  bed,  looked  sadly  down  at  the 
maniac,  who  had  grown  calm  if  not  recon- 
ciled. 

The  light  was  dim,  but,  despite  this,  it 
seemed  to  Max  that  he  had  seen  this  man 
before.  Face,  form  and  voice  were  familiar, 
but  he  eould  not  place  them.  He  was,  how- 
ever, prepared  for  anything,  and  he  looked 
calmly  on,  while  the  man  began  to  pass  his 
hand  caressingly  over  Y'eaton's  forehead,  at 
the  same  time  murmuring  to  him  as  though 


he  had  been  i 


child. 


you    before,  but   I   cannot 
"  the  sergeant  answered. 

the  .Somers' cottage  the 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   GDERRIT.LAS    APPEAR. 

The  causi-  and  effVct  of  tlie  strnugcr's 
singular  actions  were  soon  .seen.  Under  his 
efforts,  Yeatou  at  first  struggled  as  fhcnigli 
to  throw  off  a  millstone,  then  wavered,  and, 
as  his  eyes  lost  their  wild  glare,  grew  gradu- 
ally calmer,  until,  with  his  face  peaceful, 
his  eyes  closed,  aud  he  seemed  to  be  falling 
asleep. 

Barlow  silently  watched.  He  was  past  be- 
ing surprised.  The  place  was  like  an  old 
feudal  castle,  where  all  things  possible  were 
liable  to  occur.    He  would  watch  and  wait. 

Anon,  Y^eaton  seemed  soundly  sleeping, 
aud  Ins  mesmerizer  turned  to  the  Unionist. 

"Do  yon  know  me.  Max  Barlow?"  he 
asked. 

"I  have 
place  your 

"  Y'ou  saw   nil- 
night  we  trickt-d 

"Ha!    You  arc  iv.;,  ,,." 

"  Eaton  or  I'eatuu-  i;  is  all  one.  The  lat- 
ter is  my  name,  but  the  iH.ysdid  not  catch 
the  first  letter  when  I  joined  the  army,  aud 
I  am  known  by  the  former.    This  man  is  my 


!0f  1 


engagf.l  iii  f  lir  li-hi. 

we  will  siiil'  cull  'I'liin.  '-l',!. 

ranged.    He  h:\^   '    .  u    -li^ 

and  has  done  in;    i  ^  ;  i.    ., 

his   books.    Sill,-    I  h,.  1.  ,11 

has  gone  from  IimI  i.i  i>.(mm'. 

liever  in  thcjii.~ii.  .  ii  ili.>  i  , 

he  has  gone  wilil  m,  ,  i    tin-  • 

wrought  iu  the  Soui  h.  ,-]„., 

Y^ou    have    sren    ili.>>i>    inn 

They  were  madf  luuiir  lii; 

are  the  creations  ot  a  madr 

when  they  were  being  coustructed,  but  I 

little  thought  they  would  ever  be  used,  and 

humored  him  in  his  whim." 


-in  Missouri. 

round    dens. 

■ections,  and 

was  h( 


"lam  sorry  to  have  drawn  my  sword 
upon  him '' 

"Don't  mention  it,  sergeant.  Of  course 
yen  could  not  stand  still  and  be  cut  in 
pieces.  I  say  this  assuming  that  he  began 
the  fight.    T.ll  uic  about  it." 

Barlow  olii-ycil.  Eaton  listened  attentively, 
and  then  sighed  licavily  at  the  end. 

"Poor  father!"  he  said.  "He  deserves 
pity  iu  his  mental  affliction.  Now,  a  word 
of  explanation  to  you.  The  soldiers  you  saw' 
enter  here  are  gone.  They  only  stopped  for 
a  bite  of  food,  and  had  left  the  village  before 
you  came.  One  thing  more,  to  explain  how 
I  came  upon  the  scene  when  I  did.  I  was  in 
the  house  during  all  your  search ;  but,  with 
my  knowledge  of  the  place,  I  easily  evaded 
you,  aud,  when  I  heard  the  clash  of  steel,  I 
hastened  to  the  scene  to  end  it.  Now,  Bar- 
low, I  am  your  ^irisoner.  Y'ou  have  a  score 
of  men  here,  while  I  am  all  alone.  Shall  I  go 
with  you  to  your  camp  ?" 

Ma.x  looked  at  him  with  astonishment. 

"  Do  you  expect  me  to  say  yes  ?"  he  asked. 

"  We  are  enemies  of  war." 

"But  not  at  heart.  We  serve  under  rival 
banners,  but  I  would  deserve  hanging  if  I 
made  you  my  prisoner  now.  No,  Yeaton, 
you  are  as  fiee  as  the  air.  You  have  saved 
my  life  to-day,  and  at  the  Somers'  cottage 
you " 

"Helped  to  save  one  dearer  to  you  than 
your  own  life,"  finished  the  Confederate, 
smiling. 

"  That  is  it,  exactly.  Now,  you  cannot  ex- 
pect me  to  be  so  base  a  villain  as  to  make 
you  prisoner." 

"  Have  your  own  way,  my  dear  fellow,  but 
it  is  only  right  that  I  should  tell  you  I  have 
only  been  repaying  a  del)t.  Y'ou  remember 
the  ambush  m  the  pass?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  was  there,  and  a  fall  from  the  rocks 
knocked  me  senseless.  Wheu  I  recovered, 
oneofyonr  soldiers  placed  a  knife  at  my 
throat,  to  end  my  career,  but  you  dragged 
him  back  and  administered  a  severe  reproof. 
Y'ou  saved  my  life  that  day,  and  I  am  not 
ungi-ateful." 

"  Then  we  are  even.    Your  hand,  Baton !'' 

They  crossed  palms  then  aud  there,  and 
from  that  hour  neither  would  do  the  other 
an  injury. 

"Eaton,"  said  Barlow,  suddenly,  "can  you 
tell  me  who  wrote  the  not«  that  brought 
that  ambush  upon  us?" 

The  Confederate  hesitated. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  ought  to  tell  so 
much,"  he  said,  "  but  as  it  is  a  personal,  not 
a  national  afl'air,  I  will  inform  you.  Captaiu 
Keeler  wrote  the  note,  using  information 
given  him  by  Sam  Stiles." 

"Curse that  dog ! " 

"  He  deserves  more  than  a  cursing ;  he 
ongVit  to  lie  hung  liy  the  heels." 

■■  1  src  sii  imirli  iilaiiily.  Stiles  was  iu  my 
liaiiil  ami  kii.w  (.iir  secrets,  but  he  was  a 
traitnr  iind  i;ii  i  i( d  the  news  to  Keeler,  who 
wroiH  the  11. .ti-.  But.  Eaton,  that  note  was 
in  the  handwriting  of  Edgar  Peterson,  and 
was  signed  by  his  name." 

"  Keeler  is  a  cunning  penman  and  imitated 
his  writing.'' 


The 


Stiles  had  1 
hastened  tt 
come  of   tl 


than 
itb.' 


iiirs  a  tall'.'  Unknown  to  you, 
r  liipiiiiMiitorfurthehaudof 
A-liil.'Saiii  Stilus  was  equally 
h  her  sister,  Lena.  Neither 
ssi-d  his  jiassion,  so  you  had 
.■  vuu  wheu  you  tried  to  think 
iiommittedtheforgery.  The 
t  hoiight  to  remove  both  you 
y  their  plot.  Y'ou  were  to  be 
s  by  dill'  nf  their  tools,  who 
111  lia\i-  the  letter  where  it 
1,  ami  iai~i'    a    hue    and    cry 

•at  last.  amlliekuewwhvSain 


this  to  be  a  fact?" 
e  so,  and  it  was  from  his 
the   other   information   I 


e,  too,  that  I  have  never 
sill  I  e  the  night  attack  on 
s  ri  111  a  ted  villainies  were 
liiai.    He  is  no  true  sou  of 


"Didhesiispirt  you  that  night?" 

"No.    I    fired    oiie    shot    of    my  revolver 

throui-'h  my  sleeve,  and,  as  it  chanced  to 

graze  my  arm,  he  thought  I   had    narrowly 

escaped  death.    But,  captain,  this  talking 


16 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


■will  not  do.  Your  men  will  be  worrying 
about  you,  and  I  arn  not  sure  but  you  are 
liable  to  be  surprised  by  Confederates.  How 
do  we  part?" 

"  As  friends,  and  hei-e.  I  will  lead  my  men 
from  the  house  and  bacli  to  camp,  leaving 
you  with  all  good  wishes." 

He  glanced  at  the  elder  Yeatou,  who  was 
sleeping  serenely. 

"  I  can  easily  care  for  him,"  said  the  son. 
"My  control  over  him  is  complete,  and  when 
he  awakes  he  will  be  as  calm  as  ever.  Go, 
mow,  and  look  for  yourself." 
;  At  this  moment  they  heard  excited  voices 
in  the  larger  of  the  two  dens,  and  opening 
the  door.  Barlow  saw  Sharpshot  and  his 
men  grouped  around  the  pool  of  blood. 

They  greeted  him  with  cheers,  some  ex- 
planations were  made,  and  then  Barlow 
bade  Eaton  farewell,  and  led  the  way  to  the 
upper  part  of  the  house  and  then  outside. 

Nothing  was  seen  of  tlie  ;iji-d  iieprro. 

The  men  were  called  to^>t  In  r,  tlii-y  iii.nuit- 
ed,  and  all  was  ready  l.ii  IIm-  ^t;M  l.  l'.ailo\\ 
had  recovered  his  sclf-pu--.  -shin  mimI  ii.iii  ly 
all  of  his  strength,  and  in  Ins  i)la(iil  manner 
there  was  nothing  to  tell  that  he  had  just 
passed  through  the  most  desperate  adven- 
ture of  his  lite. 

He  was  about  to  put  his  command  in  mo- 
tion when  a  cry  from  Sharpshot  attracted 
his   attention.    The   scout  stood  with  one 


Barlow  looked,  and  then  he  did  not  need 
to  ask  the  cause  of  the  scout's  words. 

Up  at  the  further  end  of  the  street  he  saw 
a  body  of  cavalry,  two  score  strong,  and 
garbed  on  Confederate  gray.  More  than 
that,  they  were  coming  down  at  a  trot. 

"Two  to  our  one,"  said  Barlow,  cooUy. 
"  I  think  we  will  take  to  our  heels,  since  one 
can  gain  nothing  by  fighting.  Face  the 
other  wav,  liovs— forward,  quick  trot !" 

TheordiT  was  (.iH.yed,  and  the  boys  in 
blue  sw.pt   .Imwh   tlu-  strret.    A    series   of 

■Vel's   ca li.iin    tia-    ( '..nfcderates  above, 

isit  th.-v  i,-main.-a  nnauswircd. 

The  village  uas  small,  and  the  members  of 
ifce  guard  would  soon  have  been  beyond  it, 
( but  they  had  not  gone  fifty  yards  when, 
,from  behind  houses  and  other  places  of  con- 
(  cealment,  came  a  second  body  of  Confeder- 
ates, who  systematically  placed  themselves 
directly  in  the  road. 

Being  thus  placed  between  two  fires,  Bar- 
low looked  for  another  avenue  of  escape. 
The  life  of  every  memberof  Zagonyi's  guard 
was  a  precious  thing,  and  he  could  not  afford 
to  lose  men  by  a  brUliant  but  useless  charge. 

He  looked  to  the  north,  but  there,  too, 
was  a  squad  of  troopers,  and  at  the  South  a 
fourth  party  was  forming  In  line,  all  in  Con- 
federate gray,  all  well-armed  and  mounted, 
and  all  drawing  in  toward  the  handful  of 
Unionists. 

It  was  an  exciting  and  ominous  situation, 
for  they  were  hemmed  in,  and  with  only 
twenty  men  to  oppose  to  at  least  six  times 
that  number. 

It  was  a  time,  too,  for  prompt  planning 
and  equally  prompt  actiou,  for,  unless  they 
were  to  .surrender  tamely,  they  must  speed- 
ily cut  their  way  through  or  be  annihilated. 


way  in  which  it  dashed  forward   to  the  en- 

Plainly,  the  two  forces  would  meet  at  full 

speed,    and   then   Well,    what  then? 

Armed  alike,  with  sabers  in  their  hands,  and 
revc.lvers  in  tlicir  belts,  it  was  plain  that 
neitluT  inteudrd  to  use  carbines  just  then ; 
but  with  the  force  of  numbers  against  them, 
the  outbreak  was  not  promising     for   the 

In  dead  silence  they  rode  until  near  the 
enemy,  and  then  a  great  shout  pealed  from 
their  thnmts  in  tones  of  thuuder: 

'■Fivmontatid  tlie  I'niuu!" 

It  was  a  \t'n  whii-li  mi^'ht  have  sent  terror 
to  Iocs  ir^s  1  ,rav.'  than  llie  Confederates,  but 
thev  wi-i<'  madi'  of  tlie  same  blood  as  the 
Unionists,  and  they  sent  back  a  defiant 
shout.  .     ,   , 

Then,  going  at  full  speed,  the  rival  forces 
met. 

Tlic  shnnk  wns  terrible— the  encounter  was 
line  whicli  cairnot  be  properly  described.  So 
in mv  iH.inlsmi^'ht  be  touched  upon,  though 
nnni- .  l,ai  Iv,  that  we  may  well  hesitate  what 
ones  tnpartiinhirize. 

When  thev  struck,  some  horses  were 
thrown  down,  and  a  few  riders  lost  their 
seats;  horses  reared  high  in  air,  often  strik- 
ing out  with  their  forefeet,  and,  afterward, 
viciouslv  kicking  with  their  hindmost  ones ; 
sabers  gleamed  brightly  in  the  setting  sun, 
revolvers  cracked,  and,  above  all,  arose  the 
deafening  shout  of  the  guard  : 

"Fremont  and  the  Union!" 

It  was  a  terribly  grand  scene,  for  such 
men  fight  only  like  heroes,  but  it  was  one 
too  confused  to  be  described.  Men  and 
horses  were  mixed  together  in  utter  confu- 
sion, and  it  almost  seemed  as  though  none 
would  ever  come  out  of  that  grapple  alive. 

Yet  in  war,  aa  everywhere  else,  strange 
things  sometimes  happen. 

One  minute  it  looked  as  though  every  man 
must  go  down  under  the  shock,  the  next,  as 
though  all  were  hopelessly  tangled,  while  at 
the  third  minute  twenty  men  rode  out  of  the 
confused  knot,  their  faces  toward  the  North, 
their  sabers  red  with  blood,  and  their  faces 
curiously  streaked  and  spattered  with  black 
and  red— the  combined  results  of  smoke  and 
blood.  ^  T-   • 

These  men  wore  uniforms  of  Union  blue, 
ves     liad    cut    their    way 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Sergeant  Barlow  had  no  thought  of  sur- 
render. It  would  never  do  for  it  to  be  said 
that,  so  soon  after  their  formation,  a  portion 
of  Zagonyi's  guard  had  been  cut  off  and  cap- 
tured without  a  blow  in  defense ;  while  such 
a  calamity  would  prove  the  death-blow  to 
his  own  hopes  (luviHK  the  war  in  Missouri. 

No  ;  thev  nnist  e.^  aj r  die  lighting. 

"Boys!"  lie  erie.i,  heliling  his  sword  on 
hi"-h, '"' we  are  gein^  thrun^h  those  fellows 
like  a  hurricane.  Remember  we  belong  to 
Zagonyi's  guard  and  tight  like  tigers.  Let 
your  battle-cry  be,  '  For  Fremont  and  the 
Union!" 

The  gallant  fellows  answered  with  a  cheer. 
Brave  were  thev  as  men  were  ever  made, 
and  eaeh  une  w  as  anxious  for  service— anx- 
ious '  -■  1 


there,  though  three 
iud,  and  leaping  into 
ate  horses  they  hud 
own  death-smitten 


Zaganyi's  braves  i 
through. 

Stranger  y.-t.  all  wei, 
or  four  vfurv  a  little  bel 
the  saddles  of  Contcile 
secured  to  leplace  theii 
ones.  .   ,  , 

Ay,  the  score  of  men    had    gone    straight 
through  their  foes  without  losing  a 
though    more   than    one   gallant   fellow 
Southern   gray  lay  silent   ■"    'i-.-.+i-  "" 
ground. 


death 


the 


The 


ad  beeu  shorter  than  the  time 
ti^x^^^^,^^  .^  telling  of  it;  but,  aU-eady,  the 
Confederates  were  fast  closing  in  and  the  de- 
cisive moment  could  not  be  averted. 

Barlow  gave  a  clear  command,  and  the 
guard  swept  away  toward  the  North  at  their 
tolJmost  siieed. 

This  eoui  se  bad  the  effect  of  leaving  three 
of  the  In.stil.'  detaehments  somewhat   in  the 
roar, 
against  the  four 


eedilv     luni    them 

eh   was   twice  their 

own  numbers  ;  and  that  this  party  was  not 


Barlow's  heart  thrilled  with  joy.  It  wa 
far  more  than  he  had  dared  to  hope,  but  th. 
other  divisions  of  the  enemy  were  fast  ad 
vanclng  and  only  awaiting  a  chance  to  fir 
without  hitting  their  comrades. 

"For  Fremont  and  the  Union -;- run / 
shouted  Bai-low,  in  excusable  exultation. 

It  was  an  order  not  to  be  found  in  like 
words  in  any  book  of  military  tactics,  but 
the  troopers  understood  and  obeyed.  They 
gave  their  horses  the  spur,  and  away  they 
went,  this  time  with  all  the  enemy  m  the 
rear. 

Soon,  bullets  1)egan  to  whistle  around 
them,  but  the  distance  was  too  great  for  ac- 
curate shooting,  and  one  man  only  could 
afterward  show  the  effects  of  the  shooting. 
He  had  received  a  scratch  on  his  shoulder, 
the  insignificance  of  which  he  afterward  la- 
mented. 

Wounds,  in  the  opinion  of  the  guard,  were 
an  honor  in  such  a  cause. 

Sharpshot  looked  around,  waved  his  hand 
and  shouted  a  defiant  cry,  and  then  the  race 
fairly  began,  for  the  enemy  were  not  dis- 
posed to  let  the  Unionists  escape  so  easily, 
and  in  a  confused  body  the  hundred  odd 
men  came  sweeping  after  them. 

Danger  was  not  yet  over  by  any  means, 
but  Barlow  was  full  of  hope.  AH  depended 
on  the  quality  of  the  horses,  and  the  sergeant 
knew  what  theirs  were.  In  forming  the 
guard,  Zagonyi's  supervision  and  care  had 
gone  so  fai-  that  not  a  horse  was  accepted 
until  he  had  personally  exammed  it. 

The  fugitives  had  taken  to  the  road  leading 
toward  the  north,  for,  although  it  was  not  a 
direc^t  course,  the  footing  was  good,  and 
made  accidents  less  likely  to  occur;  and 
along  this  way  they  went  in  an  orderly  man- 
ner which  would  have  delighted  Zagonyi. 

Many  of  the  brave  fellows  had  wounds  re- 
ceived in  the  hand  to  hand  conflict,  but  they 


had  received  no  such  marks  of  honor  looked 
disappointed  and  troubled. 

Was  the  Old  Guard  of  Napoleon  made  of 
better  stuff? 

Two  miles  were  passed  at  the  same  rapid 
pace,  but,  good  as  their  horses  were,  it  was 
plain  that  those  of  the  pursuers  were  neai-ly, 
if  not  ipiite,  their  equals.  They  kept  pro- 
vokingly  close  and   Barlow  did  not  feel  at 

More  than  this,  he  suspected  that  the  en- 
emy were  of  Keeler's  lawless  band.  He  had 
been  unable  to  catch  sight  of  that  man  him- 
self, and  he  Avho   rude  at    the   tiout  and  di- 

reeteil  nio\-eiuents  was  a  .stranger;  but,  just 

the  same,  our  heio    l)eli.'\-e,l    them  to   be  of 

!•  >ami'  Liana  whieh  had  already  given  him 

The  Unionists  swept  around  a  long  bend 
the  road,  and  then  started  with  apprehen- 

L)u.    Diieeth-   in    their   path,   half  a  mile 

vay,  thev  saw  another  body  of  graycoats. 

bese  men  were    moving  about  in  a  way 

hieh  at  once  explained  their  movements. 

An  officer  was  directing  sundry  move- 
ments, and  Max  comprehended  all  immedi- 
ately. 

They  were  of  the  same  party  then  in  pur- 
suit, hut,  by  riding  across  the  fields,  m  a 
direct  route,  had  gained  the  front,  and,  if 
appearances  went  for  anything,  were  then 
engaged  in  forming  an  ambush  for  the  Un- 
ionists,  little  suspecting  that  the  friendly 
lay  of  tlie  land  betrayed  all  their  movements 

There  was  but  one  way  to  avoid  the  new 
aanger,  and  the  fugitives  turned  promptly 
from  the  road,  set  their  faces  toward  the 
Osage  and  rode  on  rapidly. 

Up  to  this  time  they  had  not  been  seen  by  _  . 
the  ambnshers,  but  as  thev  palloped  over  a 
firm,  wide  prairie  tlcie  was  a  sudden  com- 
motion anioini  ill"  i  ontcilerates ;  and  then 
the  ambnshiini  scheme  was  abandoned,  and 
they  came  ilashing  across  tlie  held  in  a  course 
intended  to  intercept  the  Union  riders. 

"  Do  they  want  ter  get   hurt?"   demanded 
Sharpshot,  as  he  nervously  fingered  his  rifle. 
"  I  should  say  their  purpose  was  to  do  the 
hurting  themselves,"  said  Barlow. 
"Will  it  work?" 

"  I  reckon  not.  There  are  no  more  than 
forty  men  there,  and  if  we  don't  make  mat. 
ters  unpleasant  for  them,  I  am  no  prophet. 
We  will  give  them  a  taste  of  lead." 

He  spoke  to  his  men,  and  they  looked  to 
their  fire-arms.  They  could  shoot  as  well  as 
ride  and  use  saber,  these  men  of  the  Path- 
finder's guard,  and  their  movements  were 
all  in  the  line  of  business. 

On  came  the  Confederates,  and  it  was 
evident  they  would  be  intercepted  unless  the 
enemy  was  given  a  cheek. 

Sharpshot  opened  the  ball.  His  long  rifle 
went  up  to  his  shoulder,  remained  station- 
ary for  an  instant,  and  then,  as  he  pressed 
the  trigger,  sent  a  bit  of  lead  on  its  mission. 
Close  on  the  heels  of  the  sharp  crack  came 
an  unmilitary  movement  on  the  part  of  one 
of  the  Confederates.  He  reeled,  clutched 
violently  at  the  horn  of  his  saddle,  and  then 
went  tothe  ground  in  a  heap. 

The  shot  was  a  sitrnal  for  the  other  Union- 
ists. TlicN  in  -au  to  hre  inan  iiienular  way, 
each  picl;nc^  hi.  man  an.l  pulling  the  trigger 
when  it  sniti  il  hiniseU.  ami  the  result  was 
more  deadly  than  Barlow  had  dared  hope. 

The  gray  riders  were  hetivily  stricken. 
They  tumbled  off  their  horses,  one  by  one, 
and  the  front  rank  seemed  shaken  as  by  a 
tornado. 


reluctant  to  meet  them  was  shown  by  the  |  laughed  at  the  flowing  blood,  and  those  who 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

ON  A  SCOUT. 

The  Confederates  were  heavily  stricken, 
and  they  wavered  and  lost  heart  before  that 
deadly  discharge.  Still,  they  were  brave 
men,  and  he  who  rode  at  the  front  was  seen 
giving  them  words  of  encouragement. 

Sharpshot  saw  what  was  needed.  He  had 
reloa.led  his  iitle.  and,  once  more  glancing 
along  the  ban  el,  he  covered  the  leader  and 
firedr  t^eeminglv,  he  never  fired  in  vain; 
for,  at  the  crack",  the  man  went  down  in  a 
heap. 

The  last  calamity  was  too  much  for  the 
other  men.  They  pulled  in  their  horses  and 
stood  in  a  body  over  their  fallen  leader, 
whUe  the  Unionists  swept  on  tlieir  way. 

Danger  was  not  yet  past,  however.  The 
main  body  of  the  enemy  was  still  thundering 
in  the  rear,  and  the  course  the  Ingitives  had 
been  obliged  to  assume  was  taking  them  to 
the  Osage,  some  distance  east  of   their  camp. 

K  the  pursuit  was  coutinued,  the  passage 
of  the  river  might  be  made  an   unpleasantly 
warm  one.  under  the  combined  influence  of 
lead  and  the  rapid,  swollen  waters. 
I     Barlow  was  never  more  in  earnest  in  his 


THE  WAR  LIBTIARY. 


17 


life.  Thus  far  he  had  brought  his  command 
without  the  loss  of  a  man,  and  he  wished  to 
report  to  Zagonyi  with  the  whole  gallaut 
force  at  his  back. 

They  rapidly  neared  the  river,  but  not  one 
of  the  boys  in  blue  knew  the  country  well 
enough  to  know  the  nature  of  tlje  iiussiiig 
they  were  about  to  undertake.  They  iiiit;lit 
strike  the  river  where  steep  blufls  wuuUl 
prevent  any  passage  whatever,  or  where  tlie 
water  ran  so  swiftly  that  their  horses  would 
lose  headway  and  expose  the  riders  to  the 
shots  of  the  enemy. 

There  only  hope  lay  in  chancing  upon  a 
spot  where  they  could  quickly  enter  the 
stream,  and  then  meet  only  tolerably  tran- 
quil water. 
•  Sharpshot  turned  to  Barlow  as  they  ncvred 
.  the  river. 

"  Serjeant,  I  hev  a  proposition.  I'll  drop 
out  o'  line — hide,  au'  arterwards  watch  the 
Coufed'rites  a  bit.  Ef  Zagonyi  will  come, 
cross  the  Osage  jest  below  the  bridge,  an' 
thar  I  will  join  you,  explain  whar  the  guer- 
rillas be,  an'  lead  the  guard  against  them. 
See?" 

Barlow  comprehended  and  was  convinced. 
He  said  as  much,  and  Sharpshot  looked  for 
a  chance  to  drop  out  of  line  unseen  by  the 
pursuers.  He  was  going  to  venture  much, 
■but  Max  had  oontldence  in  his  sagacity,  and 
spoke  no  words  of  caution. 

The  fugitives  swept  through  a  hilly  wood, 
and  the  scout  turned  sharply  to  the"left  aud 
made  for  cover.  His  chances  for  Ijeiiig  un- 
observed were  good,  for,  not  only  was  the 
character  of  the  ground  favorable,  but  dark- 
ness was  beginning  to  settle   over  the  scene. 

Barlow  and  his  troopers  went  on,  and  the 
Confederates  thundered  in  the  rear.  The 
critical  moment  was  near  at  hand.  A  hun- 
dred yards  ahead  rolled  the  waters  of  the 
Osage,  and  all  depended  on  the  nature  of  the 
river  and  its  lianks. 

The  sergeant  looked  eagerly  ahead.  A  line 
of  trees  fringed  the  stream  and  kept  him  in 
suspense ;  but  he  began  to  feel  sure  that  there 
were  no  bluffs. 

Still  on — then  through  the  Hue  of  trees. 

The  Osage  lay  before  them. 

In  the  rear  <':ime  the  pursuers.  They  knew 
the  country  bcttcT- fl];ni  the  rninnisfs;  and 
they  knew,  tiM,.  tluil  thcii-  nnlv  lidpc  lav  in 
flriug  on  tlic  utile  \,:\\u\  wliil..  tlicy  were 
crossing.  Bcvuud  tlH'  (_isu;;c  they  dared  not 
go. 

Half  way  across  the  Unionists  heard  a  se- 
ries of  yells  in  the  rear.  Then  the  bullets 
began  to  spatter  in  the  water.  They  came 
hissingly,  and  each  one  as  it  struck  sent  a 
spiteful  little  jet  of  water,  splashing  the  ri- 
ders, and  making  echoes  to  the  dangerous 
music  of  tlie  carbiues. 

Still,  the  good  fortune  which  had  all  day 
hung  aromiil  the  il.'voted  band  did  notdesert 
them  thin.  'I'lneu-h  f  h.;  sh.iwer  of  lead  they 


The  gruwiug  daikuess  served  to  bother  the 
marksmen,  and  that  same  darkness  served  to 
add  to  the  picturesqueness  and  wildness  of 


hearn  eh.  ,  1 ,  and  tleii,  u  itiiout  delay,  dis- 
appeared amune  the  tree.-. 

Baffled,  the  Conlederates  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment on  their  own  bank,  and  then  went  sul- 
lenly back. 

Wherever  he  may  have  been  during  the 
chase  Keeler  was  then  there.  The  guerrilla 
band  was  his,  and  his  curses  arose  warmly 
as  he  led  them  away  from  the  scene  of  their 
final  failure.  He  had  lost  many  a  man  by 
the  day's  work,  and  none  of  those  left 
under  his  banner  dared  address  him  at  that 
moment. 

He  led  the  band  a  mile  back  from  the 
river,  and  encamped  in  a  wood.  Whether 
he  was  foolish  enough  to  believe  there 
would  bene  return  movement  against  him, 
or  whether  he  was  reckless  of  consequences, 
is  uncertain  ;  but  he  went  into  camp  for  the 
night,  merely  throwing  out  pickets  as  a  pro- 
tection against  surprise. 

They  made  their  supper  of  food  already  in 
tJ«eir  hands.  Then  Keller  called  one  of  his 
fen.    He    came,    and   proved   to    be   Sam 


Stiles,  our  old  acquaintance  of  lynching 
fame. 

"Sam,"  said  the  chief,  "you  are  a  bold 
man." 

"Wal,  sorter,"  the  fellow  acknowledged, 
lookin.;;:  curiously  at  his  leader. 

"Licutenaut  Mooney  was  killed  to-day. 
You  shall  liave  his  office  on  one  condition." 

■'Name  it." 

"  It  is  merely  that  you  kill  Max  Barlow." 

'•  Why  didn't  you  do  the  deed  to-day,  if 
you  hanker'^" 

It  was  a  timely  question,  but  the  man's 
'     laclied  respect.  Keeler  frowned. 


;sp' 

eproof  trembled  on  his  lips,  but  he 

better   of   it    and   swallowed   his 


and  a  r 
thought 
choler. 

"I  had  no  proper  chance,  as  you  well 
know.  But,  in  regard  to  Barlow :  You 
know  my  reasons  for  hating  him.  He  is  my 
rival  in  war  and  love.  While  he  lives,  I 
can  hojje  for  nothing  ^vith  Olive  Somers.  If 
you  will  place  him  under  the  sod,  I  will 
make  you  my  lieutenant." 

Sam  grinned  like  cue  win i  sees  a  joke  of 
broad  and  e.xi.aiisn.'  lu'epeiiiens. 

"I  don'l  hanker,"  he  tiankly  acknowl- 
edged. "  1  lia\e  rnl  a  snie  sp.it  in  my  ribs 
to-night,  which  re.alls  a  scene  which  oc- 
curred a  few  weeks  ane  in  SI.  Louis.  Tw.i 
men,  one  with  ai-ed  In  a  id  an'  fetlic-r  \vith  a 
black  one,  tried  te  jici  the  best  of  a  sin.^lc 
man.     He  lookeil   ever  Ins  shenlihi' at  tin-ir 


the 


Uesnlt   was,   I  go 


prove  my  htness 

"The    office    i 

Barlow  is  killed. 


ead  ])ill  in  my 
lur  life.  No, 
Max  Barlow, 
though,    ter 


Ke,.|,a-  i;laied  al  him  anurilv,  but  made  no 
reply.     Sam  « as    n.Ncr   duly    respectful    to 

piece  el  ra>.  alitv  together  and  might  again 

,\s  Sam  s  iv.irds  have  shown,  they  were  the 
invsti  liens  night  assailants  of  Barlow,  in 
St.  I.miis,  where  they  were  operating  in  dis- 

stlles  had  received  a  bad  wound,  but  he 
manafxed  to  getaway  from  the  scene  of  the 
atli  ay  and,  in  due  time,  wholly  recovered 
except  for  the  "  sore  spot  in  his  ribs,"  as  he 
called  it. 

Before  further  words  had  been  spoken, 
two  of  the  pickets  entered  the  camp  with  a 
third    man    walking   between    them.     One 

g'anee  was  enough  to  show  him  a  prisom-r, 
e  did  not  wear  Confedeiate  -ray,  ami 
bonds  were  on  his  arms,  ihon.uh  he  walked 
boldly  and  held  his  head  highei',  it  anything, 
than  his  captors. 

Keeler  started  and  thrilled  with  surprise. 
This  man  was  no  stranger  to  him,  though 
he  had  never  seen  him  luitil  the  beginning 
of  the  wjir.  He  bad  seen  him  tirst  wlien,  iii 
the  pre\ions.Inne.  Lyon  amljackson  fought 


I  ottenseen  him  skulking 
an  ominous  mauner. 
whom  he  knew  to  be  a 
our  friend  Sharpshot,  the 
■  had  ventured  too  near 
land  had  been  overpower- 


I  observe,  kurnel,"  said  the  scout, 

lit  sp(.k-e  with  a  blaudness  which 
able,  lad  he  knew  very  well  that 
1  (  lose  (  oiner.     Keeler  was  a  man 


,y  be  the  creed  of  his  captor. 

Sharpshot,  however,  was  resolved  not  to 
play  the  coward. 

"  I  suppose  you  were  with  Barlow  to-day," 
answered  the  guerrilla.  "  You  hang  around 
him  all  the  time.  Probablj',  you  are  trying 
to  absorb  style  from  Fremont's  high-toned 
guard." 

"  That  same  guard  will  some  day  absorb 
your  whole  gang,  head  and  heels." 

"  I  only  want  to  meet  them,"  said  Keeler, 
boastfully. 

"  They  would  swaller  you  at  one  mouth- 
ful. You  don't  know  Zagonyi.  See  that 
you  don't  get  acquainted  with  him." 

"  Enough  of  this  talk;  I  am  going  to  deal 
with  you  while  I  have  a  chance.  Stiles, 
bring  a  rope." 

The  man  stalked  away,  followed  by  a  sar- 
castic comment  from  the  prisoner,  but  soon 
returned  bearing  a  rope.     It  was   noosed 


over  Sharpshot's  head,  and  the  loose  end 
flung  over  the  branch  of  a  tree. 

"Now,"  said  Keeler,  "if  you  have  any 
prayers  to  say,  they  will  fit  in  well  right 
here." 

"  That's  a  matter  between  me  and  Oneyou 
don't  know,"  said  the  scout,  still  calmly. 
"  You  pull  your  oar  and  I'll  pull  mine." 

"  We  pull  roiiCS  here,"  sneered  the  guer- 
rilla. 

"Then,  pull  away." 

The  words  were  spoken  calmly,  rather 
than  boastfully,  but  they  stung  Keeler,  and 
he  gave  the  signal. 

The  men  at  the  rope  pulled  sharply,  and 
Sharpshot  went  up  and  hung  dangling  in 
mid-air. 


CHAPTER  XXII, 


AKD. 

o  the  Union 
Ige  was  pro- 
id  was  near, 
he  following 
anie  in,  they 
hauling  logs,. 


Barlow  led  his  men  a 
camp.  The  work  on 
gressing  at  all  hours,  b 

and  the  leaders  hoped  I 

day.     As   the   s.outin.ii 
passed   imprompdi    w. 

Max  1. Hiked  tor  Zaiionyi,  but,  failing  to 
hiid  him,  went  at  once  to  Fremont. 

The  i;reat  c.Npl.u'ei' and  soldier  was  at  his 
humbh'  iiuarfeis,  and  withhim,  in  close  con- 
versation, were  Sie,-!  and  Zagonyi. 

".\h!  .scrgeaut  Barlow,  is  it  you?"  said 
the  Pathfinder,  looking  up.  "  Major  Zag- 
onyi was  just  saying  that  it  was  time  for 


you  to  r 

"Thci 

".A.nd 

acquit  t 

"Nob 

many  d: 

have   m 

minus  o 

"Bra^ 

tell  ym 

man  ki 

they 


i^rhfiug,  general " 

he -nard-how  ,lid  they 
Za.uonyicpiickly  asked. 
They  have  inline  through 
■ssfully  ;  and,  while  they 
lan,  the  enemy  will  be- 
lt roll  call."  " 
.rave  fellows:  Did  I  not 
al  Fremont.  And  not  a 
—good!      But,   sergeant. 


spoke  anxiously. 

"Two-thirds,  at  least,  can  show  outs  and 
bullet  marks,  but  no  one  will  be  incapaci- 
tated from  duty  a  single  day.  We  cut  our 
way  through  twice  our  number,  and  th& 
guard  dashed  back  the  foe  as  a  rock  scorns 
the  waves." 

Barlow  had  dropped  into  bombastic  lan- 
guage unconsciously,  but  it  was  done  be- 
cause he  kuew  that  Zagonyi's  whole  heart 
was  with  the  guard. 

"Brave  men— brave  men!"  commented 
the  major. 

"lain]iroud  of  you,  and  of  the  guard," 
said  I'leniout,  "  but  the  result  does  not  sur- 
prise me.  1  kuowthematerial  of  which  that 
band  is  made." 

"They  are  like  the  'Old  Guard.'"  said 
Zagonyi,  looking  at  the  Pathfinder,  "  and 
they  never  forget  that  they  have  their 
Napoleon," 

"  Don't  tiatter  me.  major;  I  warn  you,  do 
not  do  II,  >ahl  I'leniout,  good-naturedly ; 
then,    I-  I,:  .        I       1    irlow:  ^'We  will    hear 

liaiiev.  -,:,,  i  iiief  account  of  all  that 
had  liaiipeiied.  ihoniih  reserving  an  account 
of  his  liglit  ^\  iih  Yealon  for  a  more  favorable 
time.  He  also  explained  the  latest  position 
of  theguenillas, 

"Ah!"  said  the  Pathfinder,  "I  think  we 
have  a  chance  to  strike  them  in  turn." 

"Let  me  at  them!"  said  Zagonyi,  quick- 
ly. "  I  will  take  the  guard  and  scatter  their 
whole  force." 

"  So  be  it,  major ;  take  what  men  you  wish, 
and  report  to  me  on  your  return." 

The  Hungarian  motioned  to  Barlow,  and 
they  departed  together.  Several  minutes  of 
activity  followed,  and  then  the  guard,  to 
the  number  of  one  hundred,  was  ready  to 
march. 

Zagonyi  would  have  laughed  at  the  idea  of 
more  being  rerpiired. 

The  stai't   was  made,  and  they  swam    the 


thiv  hardly  knew 
■  ed  every  moment  to 
had  promised  to  meet 
existing  doubt  as  to 
rtierrillas  would  actu- 
iled  any  definite  un- 


his  I 


among  the  guard  exjiressed  the  opinion  th" 
the   ilouds    would   soon   break  awaj',  ai'f 
when  the  moon  arose,  the  weather  and  ['• 
night  would  be  fine. 
Having  no  better  plan  in  view,  they  rod 


18 


THE  WAR  LIBHARY. 


toward  where  Barlow  had  last  seen  the  ea- 


,  and  Barlow  on  his  left, 
and  behind  them  came  the  guard. 

A  finer  body  of  men  had  never  crossed  the 
soil  of  Missouri.   In  form  and  face  they  were 


Not  far  did  they  go  in  this  compact  order, 
however.  Zagonyi  had  no  intention  of  run- 
ning into  an  ambush,  so  half  a  dozen  scouts 
were  sent  out  to  examine  the  ground  in  ad- 
Tance.  Barlow  asked  for  and  received  per- 
mission to  malie  one  of  this  squad. 

Before  they  reached  the  place  where  Bar- 
low's men  had  crossed  the  Osage  under  fire, 
one  of  the  scouts  fell  back  and  reported  that 
the  guerrillas  were  encamped  in  a  wood  at 
the  southwest,  so  away  in  that  direction 
went  the  guard. 

They  approached  the  wood  cautiously, 
though  it  was  long,  and  the  enemy  were 
said  to  be  at  the  further  end.  The  policy  of 
a  good  soldier  is  to  be  extremely  careful 
when  care  is  needed ;  and  when  the  time  for 
action  comes,  to  go  in  with  every  nerve 
strained  for  effect ;  and  Zagonyi  was  a  master 
of  the  art  of  war. 

Entering  the  trees,  the  major  threw  five 
men  forward  on  foot  to  feel  the  way,  and 
the  remainder  followed  as  silently  as  possi- 
ble in  the  rear. 

Barlow  was  one  of  the  scouts,  and,  as  he 
crept  throimli  tlii>  Ipushc:;,  lie  put  into  use  all 
the  ways  Im-  li:iil  IruiTU'd  during  his  career 
amon^''tlir  Iinliaus,  ;iiiil  his  progress  was  re- 
markably skillful  ami  noiscli'ss. 

AsIkuII II   iniiplipsicd,  the  clouds  were 

breaking  a\v;iv,  an^l  the  newly-risen  moon 
shone  bri-htlv  at  times.  Its  light,  however, 
was  liikh'  ini'l  uiicritain.as  dark  clouds  ever 
and  anon  ci. issi-il  its  face. 

Still  it  helped  the  scouts  on  their  way. 

Barlow  had  gone  a  mile  without  seeing  a 
sign  of  any  per.son,  foe  or  friend,  when  he 
experienced  one  of  the  most  singular  adven- 
tures of  his  life. 

He  had  reached  a  place  where  there  was  a 
break  in  the  trees,  formiBg  a  little  glade, 
and,  as  the  moon  shone  brightly  withm,  he 
paused  at  the  edge  of  the  bushes  to  look 
ahead  before  thus  exposing  himself. 

Then  it  was  that  he  saw  a  strange  and 
startling  sight. 

At  first  he  drew  his  revolver,  for  he  be- 
lieved that  a  man— a  Confederate— was  be- 
fore him,  but  he  did  not  raise  the  hammer. 
Instead,  he  stood  like  one  paralyzed. 

The  object  before  him  stood  like  a  statue, 
and,  though  it  was  formed  like '-- 


face,  so  like  the  dead,  he  recognized  the  feat 
ures  of  Edgar  Peterson ! 

Ay,  the  resemblance  was  i)erfect.  In  every 
way  the  strange  object  was  like  that  unfor- 
tunate man,  as  he  had  appeared  before  Sam 
Styles  led  his  lynchers  against  him ;  all  was 
natural  except  the  death-like  pallor. 

Barlow  stood  dumb  with  amazement  and 
iniiuentaiy  terror.  He  had  never  been  a  be- 
li  vi-r  in  ghosts,  but  at  last  he  had  unmistak- 
a'Ai'  proof  that  the  dead  did  sometime  come 
back.  Edgar  Peterson  was  buried;  he  had 
been  for  two  months  numbered  with  those 
who  had  crossed  the  mystic  river;  but  here 
was  his  form,  his  face,  all— in  spirit  shape. 

To  add  to  the  terror  of  the  situation,  the 
eyes  of  the  specter  were  fixed  upon  him  with 
a  steady  stare;  and,  as  the  sergeant  gazed, 
the  creature  put  up  one  hand  and  made  a 
motion  as  though  to  warn  him  back. 

Just  then  a  dense  cloud  swept  across  the 
face  of  the  moon,  and  the  glade  was  plunged 
into  darkness. 

Perhaps  a  full  minute  elapsed  before  the 
light  again  came,  and  during  that  interval 
Barlow  was  recovering  his  scattered  senses. 
Whatever  the  object  was,  he  must  advance 
upou  it 

The  cloud  passed  on,  the  light  came  again, 
but  when  Barlow  looked  the  glade  was  va- 
cant. 

The  specter  had  vanished ! 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  SURPRISE. 

On  the  heels  of  this  last  discovery  came  a 
rebellious  feeling  from  the  sergeant.  A 
thoroughly  practical  man,  he  had  never  be- 
lieved iu  anything  supernatural,  and  with 
the  fact  that  the  object  had  gone,  came  a 
conviction  that  it  had  been  no  phantom,  but 
a  creature  of  flesh  and  blood. 

Reckless  of  consequences,  he  broke  from 


cover,  rushed  across  the  glade,  and  entered 
the  bushes  at  the  further  side.  He  glanced 
keenly  about,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  any 
one,  human  or  otherwise. 

He  searched  thoroughly  for  several  min- 
utes, alarmed  lest  he  had  seen  one  of  the 
guerrillas,  and  allowed  him  to  escape,  but 
failing  to  find  anything,  went  back  to  the 
glade  and  paused  to  reflect. 

Who,  or  what,  had  lie  seen  ? 

It  was  a  hard  question  to  answer,  but  as 
he  remembered  the  lace  of  the  object,  and 
how  distinctly  he  had  seen  it,  he  grew  more 
and  more  amazed. 

Either  the  croatnn>  bad  possessed  a  re- 
markable liki'iii'ss  to  Eiljrar  Peterson,  or  else 
it  was  that  man  liinis.lf,  iu  bodily  condition 
or  as  a  spirit.     \Vlii<h  was  it? 

Bearing  (in  the  last  question  came  a  recol- 
lection of  the  ileathly  face  and  fixed  stare  of 
the  creatini-  aud  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  Max  Barlow  began  to  feel  a  belief  ii: 
thin;j:s  siii'ji-niatural. 

He  «  as  sure  that  he  had  seen  Edgar  Peter- 
sou,  and,  as  he  was  said  to  be  dead  aud 
buried,  it  followed  that  this  had  been  his 
specter;  and  i  reason  for  the  appearance 
was  to  he  found  iu  the  fact  that  it  had  made 
a  motion  to  warn  him  back. 

llail  Eiliiai  Titerson,  because  of  their 
frii  liilshiii  ill  lilV,  arisen  from  the  spirit 
woihl  to  It'll  him  that  danger  too  great  to  be 
dared  lay  iu  advance  f 

So  Barlow  believed  at  that  moment,  but 
the  warning,   if  one  it  was,  fell  on  barren 


in  the  world  could  not  alarm  h 

"I  will  go  on  aud  think  of  this  anon,"  he 
muttered. 

He  did  as  he  had  said,  and  pushed  forward 
through  the  bushes,  though  he  had  lost  so 
much  time  that  he  did  not  expect  to  be  the 
one  to  carry  news  to  Zagonyi. 

In  this  he  reasoned  rightly.  Other  scouts 
had  gouc  faster  than  he,  and  as  the  guard 
marihid  slowly  on  in  the  wood,  these  men 
soon  broii^'ht  h'ini  information  as  to  the  ex- 
art  iio-iiion  of  the  guerrillas. 

Pri-iiarations  were  made  for  a  charge 
through  their  camp.  Had  the  wood  been 
smaller,  the  major  would  have  tried  to  hem 
them  in  by  surrounding  the  place,  but, 
under  the  circumstances,  this  would  be 
fooUsh. 

He  must  trust  to  a  dash,  fight  while  the 
enemy  faced  them,  take  what  prisoners  he 
could,  and  note  the  result  at  the  end. 

As  has  l)efore  been  said,  Keeler  must  either 
have  been  mad  or  foolish  to  camp  as  he  had 
done.  He  had  aroused  the  temper  of  the 
Unionists,  and,  since  he  was  so  near  their 
lines,  he  should  have  known  that  he  was 
running  great  risk  to  sit  idly  down ;  but 
more  noted  military  men  than  he  have  made 


moved  slowly,  for  horses  at  a  rapid  pace 
make  far  too  much  noise  for  secret  work, 
and  chance  favored  them.  Just  north  of 
the  guerrilla  camp  was  a  place  where  the 
trees  grew  so  sparsely  that  grass  bad  sprung 
up  on  the  ground ;  aud  this  made  a  carpet 
for  the  feet  of  the  horses,  aud  prevented 
noise. 

At  last,  they  had  gone  so  near  the  camp 
thatseerecy  was  no  longer  possible.  Zagonyi 
arranged  his  men,  and  they  only  awaited 
the  word  to  dash  forward. 

Barlow,  though  still  confused,  was  doing 
his  best  to  center  his  thoughts  ou  the  work 
before  them,  aud,  as  he  had  been  given  com- 
mand of  the  left  wing,  there  was  need  of 
coolness. 

Zagony 
Majthenyi  the  right, 

At  last  the  word  crept  along  the  line,  aud 
the  guard  started. 

They  had  spoken  sharply  to  their  horses, 
and  no  more  was  needed.  The  gallant  ani- 
mals sprung  forward,  aud  with  a  crash  the 
boys  in  blue  moved  toward  the  camp. 


pickets  fired  their  gnus,  and  then,  as  the 
guard  swept  along,  dashed  into  the  surprised 
camp. 

Coufusion  seized  upon  the  Confederates; 
they  were  about  to  pay  the  jjenalty  of  their 
recklessness,  and  that,  too,  against  a  foe  who 
had  no  weak  points. 

Up  to  this  time,  the  Unionists  had  seen 
nothing  of  Sharpshot,  but  as  they  crushed 
forward  the  scout  suddenly  appeared  at  the 
front. 

"Forward,  you  fiery,  untamed  critters, 
forward!"  he  shouted,  swinging  his  rifie 
about  his  head.  "  Rush  in,  an'  the  day  is 
your'n,  for  sure." 


At  that  time,  the  members  of  the  guard 
did  not  kuow  that  he  had  lately  been  sus- 
pended by  a  rope,  so  his  sudden  appearance 
was  not  in  the  least  remarkable  to  them. 

The  Unionists  struck  heavily,  and  their 
foes  were  in  no  condition  to  receive  the 
shock.  Some  of  them  had  gained  the  backs 
of  their  horses,  and,  hearing  Keeler's  order 
to  stand  firm,  were  reluctantly  facing  the 
guard;  others,  still  on  foot,  had  paused  with  ; 
their  weapons  i-eady ;  others  still  were  rush-  i 
ing  about  in  wild  confusion,  and  the  fourth  ! 
division  was  making  the  best  of  its  way  from  ; 
the  spot. 

With  this  dilapidated  force  Keeler  hojied  to  ' 
suecesstully  oppose  the  Pathfinder's  guard. 
The  guerrilla  was  brave  enough,  and  he  had 
no  thou;,'ht  of  Uiyht,  so,  with   orders   clearly 
given,  he  uiiiiilv^ot  his  face  to  tho  foe. 

The  s!-..i.  k  came,  and,   like  a  resistless  hur- 


rican,-,  tl.e:,u 

rd  swejif   tliron;;h    the   eanrp. 

Theopiio^itioi 

wasfe.ble.     .mTh  were  in  the 

way,  men    wl 

'    were    biavi'    aud    ready  to 

fight,  but  nh; 

front  uiMler  SI 

Withswinu'i 

t  forei'eould  I'reseiita  decent 

'i-'l'lowi'fron'i't'heir  sabers  the 

guard  swept 

hrongh.    They  left  dead  and 

men   bi^hind  them,  but  they 

were  all  wear. 

blow  bad  beel 

utter  terroi 

rs  ( .f  gray.    Scarcely  a  return 

s.izeil^'upon    the   guerrillas. 

Thevkuewth 

■re  was  no  ehanee  for  them  to 

fom'i  under  M 

■h  eiiviim>lanees,  and,  situat- 

edas   thevM, 

■e,  Ihev  .■oidd    onU-exiieCt    tO 

be  cut  down  i 

tiieV   remained    b.li-lll. 

Others  join, 

1  iu'tlie  wild  ili,-lit  ot  those 

wholia.l  in  St 

led,  and  Keeler's  v,.leefeU    OU 

uuhei-diii-eai 

..     lie  waslr.viim-  desperately 

to  stem    1lie    1 

de,  bnl    jii.-t    then   a   stalwart 

kid  bini,  knocked    his  sword 

from  bis  I'laii'i! 

and    would    have    secured    a 

prisoner  Iheii 

m.l  theie,  hadnotthe  rush  of 

other  men  >ep 

iiatcd  them. 

Then  the  el, 

ef  saw  the  guard  turn  about, 

saw  his  own  ii 

en  iliiig  down  their  weapons 

and   reali/e,! 

Ihai    the   day   was   lost.    He 

wheeled  bis 

ior>c,  applied    the  spurs   and 

dashed  awav, 

avin-  himself  bv  luck  and  the 

aidof  theilarkness. 

The  triumph  ot  the  ."uard  was  complete. 
One  half  of  the  guerrillas  had  snrr.iidered, 
and  the  rest  were  in  ili,-onlciiy  lli.^'ht  ;  the 
band  had  been  completely  broken  up,  and 
this,  too,  without  the  loss  ot  a  man  ou  the 
Union  side. 

A  portion  of  the  victors,  under  Lieutenant 
Majthenyi,  pursued  for  a  short  distance,  but 
they  had  no  desire  to  run  into  a  trap,  and, 
after  a  few  minutes,  they  returned  to  the 
scene  of  the  surprise. 

Zagonyi  had  brought  order  out  of  confu- 
sion. H'is  meu  were  in  perfect  form, and  the 
prisoners  were  rcad.y  for  the  march  to  the 
Union  camp.  Xolhintr  remained  to  be  done 
except  to  go,  and  tlic,\  \veiit  aeeordiugly. 
_■■■'"  into  line  bi'side  Barlow, 
goodceiuling  to  the  day's  sport, ser- 
geant," he  said. 

"  I  think  Keeler's  band  is  pretty  well  brok- 
en," said  Max,  exultantly. 

"  Reckon  it  is,  for  sure.  It'll  be  a  scant 
force  that  answers  at  roll-call  to-morrer.  Ef 
Keeler  was  not  such  a  plucky  critter,  I 
should  say  very  likely  he  would  never  lead 
another  raid." 

"  But  he  will.  He  can  find  plenty  of  vaga- 
bonds who  will  not  attach  themselves  to  a 
regular  army,  and  with  these  he  will  soon  be 
in  the  field  again." 

"  I  had  a  leetle  adventure  ter-night,  ser- 
geant," said  the  scout,  abruptly. 

"Did  you?    How  was  that?" 

Sharpshot  told  the  story  of  his  hanging  ex- 
perience, aud,  from  the  point  of  interest,  we 
will  use  his  own  words. 

"Jest  as  the  critters  got  ready  ter  string 
me  up,  I  heard  a  voice  whisper  iu  my  ear 
sayin'  as  how  he  wa'n't  so  bad  as  he  seemed, 
that  he  was  a  Union  spy  iu  disguise,  an'  that  • 
he  would  try  ter  help  me  out.  So,  sergeant, 
he  got  charge  o'  the  rope  business,  an' I'll  be  ' 
shot  ef,  arter  the  noose  was  put  around  my 
neck,  he  didn't  take  it  off  an'  hitch  it  around 
my  shoulders  instead." 

"Didn't  the  guerrillas  see  him?"  Barlow 
asked,  iu  surprise. 

"They  seed  him  fumbUn'  about  me,  but 
they  thought  it  all  right,  an'  it  was  so  thun- 
deriu'  dark  that  nobody  seed  the  cheat." 

"  You  may  call  the  fact  pure  luck,  then." 

"Luck  and  providence, sergeant,  the  same 

which  has  befriended  me  more  nor  oust  in 

the  past,  but  it  was  the  darkness  that  fooled 

the  guerrillas." 

"  Well,  but  how  did  it  end  ?" 

"  I  stood  thar,  mute  as  a  mouse,  with  the 
noose  about  my  shoulders,  when  Keeler  give 
the  word,  then  up   I   went   in    mid-air.    Of 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


19 


course  the  strain  was  not  great,  but  I  had  a 
'  "        ' —   '    '  ^    '  — "  "     "   to  save  r 
■  you  bet. 

struggled  as  I  thought  a  hangin'  man  nat^ 
ui-ally  would,  first  desperately  and  then  eas- 
ily, lettin'  up  gradually  until  I  hung  with 
only  a  jerking  of  my  heels  an'  a  quiver  o'  my 
body." 

"It  was  a  terrible  test  of  nerve,"  said  Bar- 
low, shuddering. 

"  You  can  swear  ter  that  right  along.  I've 
been  in  manv  a  tight  place,  but  never  one 
that  require.l  so  much  uarve  as  that.  But  I 
did  it,  sergpaut,  an'  I  think  1  did  it  wal.  At 
any  rate  1  fooled  the  critters,  an'  as  1  hung 
thar,  nice  an'  easy,  Keeler  hadn't  a  susnicion 
but  what  I  was  hung  by  the  neck  until  I  was 
dead." 

"  And  what  came  then  ?" 

"  He  finally  ordered  me  cut  down,  Keeler 
did,  an'  agin  my  friend  puslied  himself  for- 
rud.  He  cut  tlie  rope,  felt  o'  mj'  heart,  said 
it  had  ceased  to  beat,  an'  no  cue  appeared 
ter  dispute  him.  Keeler  ordered  the  '  body,' 
as  he  called  me,  ter  be  dragged  away  in  the 
bushes,  an'  my  friend  seed  to  that,  cut  my 
hands  loose  an'  left  me  alone. 

"They  had  dragged  me  heels  first,  but  I 
never  made  a  sigu,  an'  when  they  left  me 
alone  in  the  bushes  I  was  as  satisfied  as  though 
they  had  left  watchers." 

"You  didn't  stay   there  long,  I  suppose?" 

"You  bet  I  didn't.  I  only  waited  a  bit, 
au'  then  1  arose,  scooted  out,  an'  j'ined  your 
critters  as  they  come  down." 

"And  your  rescuer?" 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  him,  but 
ef  he  is  the  boy  I  took  him  ter  be,  he  has 
cared  for  number  one.    I  think  it  w.as " 

Sharpshot  ended  by  pronouncing  the  name 
of  a  spy  well  known  to  Fremont's  army. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

ACKOSS    THE  OSAGE. 

The  guard  reached  the  Union  camp  in 
safety,  swimming  the  river  below  the  bridge- 
builders,  and  taking  their  prisoners  into 
camp.  Zagonyi  reported  to  General  Fre- 
mont, some  further  work  was  done,  and 
then  the  tired  soldiers  sought  their  blankets. 

It  was  near  morning  before  Max  Barlow 
fell  asleep.  He  had  just  gone  through  such 
a  series  of  adventures  that  he  had  food 
enough  for  thought,  but  his  mind  dwelt 
mostly  on  the  strange  sight  he  had  seen  in 
the  wood. 

Had  it  been  a  specter  1 

Again  and  again  he  asked  himself  the 
question,  but  there  was  no  satisfactory  an- 
swer to  the  riddle.  He  found  it  hard,  with 
his  firm  and  practical  mind,  to  believe  that 
such  things  could  be,  but  the  subject  was 
one  which  baffled  him  at  every  turn. 

There  were  three  ways  to  look  at  the  mat- 
ter. Either  he  had  seen  Edgar  Peterson  in 
the  flesh  or  his  spirit,  or  else  it  had  been  a 
man  who  greatly  resemliled  his  old  friend. 
Keeler  had  said  that  Edgar  was  dead  and 
buried,  but  tlu-  guerrilla  was  not  a  man  of 
strict  veiacity. 

He  might  have  lied,  and  Edgar  might  still 
be  living  but,  if  so,  why  was  his  face  so 
strangely  pale  'I  More  like  a  ghost  than  any- 
thing else  had  the  object  appeared. 

If  it  had  been  a  person  who  strongly  re- 
sembled Edgar,  who  was  it,  and  how  had  he 
Bo  mysteriously  disappeared  ?" 

With  all  these  questions  rushing  through 
his  mind.  Barlow  lay  awake  until  nearly 
morning  and  rolled  and  tossed  on  his  blan- 
ket. 

The  following  day  the  bridge  was  to  be 
completed,  the  Osage  passed,  and  the  march 
resumed.  The  delay  had  been  vexatious, 
but  it  was  one  iif  the  fortunes  of  war,  and 
not  to  be  avoided. 

So,  after  Barlow  turned  out,  he  chanced 
upon  Sharpshot  and  a  man  he  knew  to  be 
the  favorite  spy  of  the  army.  It  was  his 
name  the  sharpshooter  had  pVonounced  on 
the  previous  uight,  and  Max  joined  them, 
anxious  to  see  if  his  suspicion  had  been  cor- 
rect. 

It  WP.S  as  Sharpshot  had  thought.  The  spy, 
with  the  dariug  peculiar  to  his  class,  had 
entered  the  Confederate  camp,  and,  in  the 
darkness,  mixed  with  them  unsuspected. 
Fate  had  brought  him  and  Sharpshot  there 
at  the  same  time,  and  liy  the  use  of  great 
skill  and  bravery,  he  had  siueeeded  in  sav- 
ing the  life  of  the  sharpshooter. 

Barlow  and  Sharpshot  wandered  on  to- 
gether. 

"  Do  you  believe  in  ghosts?"  Max  suddenly 
asked. 

It  was  a  question  which  would  have  given 
him  a  slight  start,  but  the  scout  met  it 
cooUy. 

"  Sartinly,"  he  answerei. 


Seed  one  yourse; 

"No,  but  I  didn't  know  but  what  I  should, 
such  strange  things  are  occurring  just  now." 

And  then  Barlow  changed  the  subject, 
and  their  whole  attention  was  given  to  the 
bridge  as  they  arrived. 

Our  hero's  mind,  however,  dwelt  on  his 
late  encounter  with  annoying  perseverance. 
He  could  not  solve  the  mystery.  He  would 
have  been  glad  to  believe  Edgar  Peterson 
alive,  but,  if  it  was  so,  why  did  he  not  show 
himself  to  one  who  would  have  been  his 
friend  then,  as  in  the  past? 

Barlow  reflected  ou  the  subject  until  he 
was  tired  and  angry  ;  and  it  was  a  great  re- 
lief when  the  bridge  was  finished  and  the 
order  came  for  an  advance. 

The  army  crossed,   now  thirty  thousand 


their  destination  being  Springfield,  by  way 
of  Bolivar. 

Not  to  dwell  ou  the  events  of  this  march 
which  are  not  of  importance  to  our  story, 
let  us  go  forward  to  an  incident  which  oc- 
curred just  as  the  army  was  nearing  the 
Pomme  de  Terre  River. 

A  scout  returned  to  camp  at  noon,  and, 
findiug  Barlow,  handed  him  a  letter. 

"What  is  this  ?"  Max  asked,  in  surprise. 

"  I  came  upon  a  man  a  mile  south  of  here, 
and  he  gave  me  that  paper  and  asked  me  to 
deliver  it  to  you.  That's  all  I  know  about 
it." 

The  sergeant  broke  the  seal,  unfolded  the 
paper,  and  saw  writing  in  a  bold,  mtisculine 
hand. 

He  read  the  contents  rapidly. 


"  MAX  Barlow  ;— If  you  ciin  get  away  from  your_post, 
it  would  be  well  for  yuu  to  go  utonce  to  Springtield.  in 
disguise.    Olive  and  Lena  Somers  have    been   stolen 


;  Euard  trounced  liim  s 


(  disgusted  with  1 


SS 


reason  to  suppose  they 


9  Keeler  bring  dis 
baffle  them  when 


So  i-an  the  letter,  and  though  Barlow  after- 
ward thought  of  the  noble  nature  of  the 
man  who  had  written,  he  could  just  then 
think  only  of  the  peril  which  menaced  the 
woman  he  loved. 

Olive  Somers  in  the  power  of  Keeler !  Good 
heavens!  the  knowledge  was  maddening. 
She,  with  her  tender  breeding  and  nature ; 
he,  a  man  to  whom  honor  was  unknown. 

Barlow  was  almost  wild.  Only  one 
thought  was  in  his  mind— to  secure  leave  of 
absence  and  then  hasten  to  Springfield.  It 
must  be  done — he  must  go  to  the  rescue  of 
the  woman  he  loved.  All  thoughts  of  the 
glory  of  the  battlefield  which  he  would 
lose  were  then  gone— he  thought  only  of 
Olive. 

He  was  about  to  go  to  Zagonyi  when  he 
was  summoned  to  that  officer.  He  went  and 
heard  news  which  electrified  him. 

The  guard  had  been  ordered  to  march  on 


Such  was  the  welcome  news  which  met 
Max  Barlow  as  he  reported  at  Zagonyi's 
quarters. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE      PRISONERS. 

Leaving  Zagonyi  aud  the  guard  to  make 
that  renowned  march  to  Sjiriugfleld,  let  us 
go  on  ahead  and  look  after  the  fortunes  of 
those,  who,  if  Barlow's  information  was  cor- 
rect, were  in  a  bad  situation— Olive  and 
Lena  Somers. 

The  friendly  Confederate  had  spoken  truly 
when  he  said  they  had  been  stolen  by 
Keeler.  Mr.  Somers,  though  considered  a 
man  of  good  commonsense  in  other  re- 
spects, had  persisted  in  remaining  at  the 
village  in  the  face  of  all  the  warnings  he 
had  received,  and  the  already  abundant 
proof  that  Keeler  had  designs  against  the 
peace  of  his  daughters. 

The  result  was  what  Barlow  and  others 
had  feared.  After  Keeler  had  been  frustrat- 
ed in  his  first  attempts,  he  swept  through 
the  Ozark  country  and  along  the  Osage  un- 
til so  severely  handled  by  Zagonyi ;  then  he 
gathered  the  survivors  of  his  band,  added 


some  new  recruits,  and  one  night  descended 
on  the  village  and  kidnaped  the  girls. 

Mr.  Somers  was  left  at  the  house  witk  a 
wound  which  bade  fair  to  keep  him  in  the 
repair-shop  for  at  least  a  month,  which 
would  give  him  time  to  consider  whether  he 
had  acted  wisely. 

Having  secured  the  girls,  Keeler  headed 
straight  for  Springfield,  where  he  arrived  at 
dawn  the  following  morning.  He  made  no 
conversation  with  his  prisoners  on  the  way, 
but  e.xplanations  were  not  needed  to  show 
the  girls  that  they  were  in  extreme  neril.       . 

They  were  taken  to  a  house  near"the  cen-' 
ter  of  the  place  and  given  in  charge  of  a 
man  and  his  ivife  who  seemed  fit  tools  for 
Keeler. 

To  that  house,  an  hour  later,  the  guerrilla 
chief  came,  accompanied  by  Sam  Stiles. 

Olive  and  Lena  were  surprised  to  see  the 
two  together,  for  the  chief,  despite  his  vil- 
lainy, was  a  man  of  education  and  fair  ex- 
terior, while  Stiles  was  amere  "poor  white." 
They  had  known  him  well  at  their  native 
village,  had  never  liked  him,  and,  since  he 
led  the  lynchers  against  Edgar  Peterson, 
their  feelings  were  of  a  type  which  can  easily 
be  imagined. 

Keeler  bowed  before  them  with  grave  po- 
liteness, which  showed  his  skill  in  grim 
irony. 

"  I  trust,  ladies,  that  you  are  enjoying 
yourselves  in  your  new  home,"  he  said. 

"  We  are  not,  and  we  would  like  an  explan- 
ation," Olive  said,  quickly. 

"  Easily  done.  You  already  know  that 
you  are  my  prisoners,  so  I  need  not  state 
that  fact.  The  reason  i-s  next  in  order,  and 
that  may  be  quickly  given.  I  am  human,  Miss 
Somers ;  I  have  seen  and  admired  you,  and 
it  is  my  ambition  to  make  you  my  wife.  It 
was  for  that  purpose  that  I  brought  you 
here." 

Olive  grew  very  pale  and  lost  her  compos- 
ure for  a  moment.  Lena,  equally  disturbed, 
turned  her  head  away  from  the  burniufe  re- 
gard of  Sara  Stiles. 

"The  idea  does  not  seem  to  please  you," 
added  Keeler,  in  tlie  same  bland  manner. 

"  It  does  not,  sir.  "  Olive  plainly  said. 

"And  why  not  ?•' 

"Because,  sir,  I  liave  no  desire  to  become 
your  wife." 

"  I  had  an  idea  the  wind  would  blow  th!.t 
way,"  said  the  guerrilla,  yawning  with  as- 
sumed laziness.  "That's 'why  I  stole  you. 
Deuce  take  it !  I  didu't  get  enough  sleep  last 
night.  Too  much  hard  work  in  this  busi- 
ness." 

"  Do  you  mean  in  the  stealing  of  women  ?" 
retorted  Olive. 

"Well,  that  comes  in  as  a  part  of  my 
trade " 

"  I  thought  as  much,  sir.  I  have  heard 
that  you  are  really  an  outlaw ;  that  the  Con- 
federate generals  refuse  to  recognize  you  as 
a  soldier,  and  that  they  deplore  the  fact  that 
such  men  exist  in  Missouri." 

Olive  spoke  with  cutting  bitterness  ;  but 
Keeler  remained  unmoved. 

"  You  mustn't  believe  half  what  you  hear. 
When  General  Price  finds  himself  hemmed 
U])  in  Springfield  by  the  Union  army,  he 
will  be  glad  to  extend  his  right  hand  and 
let  the  tiger  of  the  Ozark  strike  in  his  be- 
half. But  we  are  wandering  from  our  sub- 
ject. Do  you  know  why  my  friend.  Stiles,  ap- 
pears in  this  case?" 

"No." 

"  Because  he,  too,  is  in  the  field  as  a  lover. 
He  has  felt  the  tender  passion,  and  his  heart 
is  riddled  like  a  sieve.  He  has  been  like  a 
schoolboy  tor  several  weeks,  has  written 
poetry,  and  sung  songs  to  the  moon.  He 
goes  libout  in  deep  thought,  and  has  lost  a 
good  deal  of  flesh.  All  tor  love !  And,  la- 
dies, the  object  of  his  affection  is  Miss  Lena 
Somers.     Ain't  that  so,  Sam?" 

"That's  till' i(iciitii-le  idee,  cap'n,"  replied 
theriMlian,  ivitli  a -liu. 

It  was  s)H.rt  tor  them  to  torture  and 
frighten  tlifsc  iimoceut  and  helpless  girls, 
for  they  felt  that  the  game  was  all  in  their 
own  hands,  but  the  pleasure  was  all  ou  one 
side. 

Poor  Lena  turned  terribly  pale  as  she 
heard  Keeler's  declaration.  She  lacked  the 
outspoken  bravery  of  her  elder  sister,  and, 
though  possessed  of  a  good  deal  of  latent 
courage,  had  not  the  nerve  to  hear  such  an 
assertion  calmly. 

And  what  girl  would  have? 

"Sir,"  said  Olive,  with  spirit,  "  why  will 
you  persist  in  insulting  us?" 

"Bless  me,"  said  the  unmoved  villain,  in 
assumed  surprise.  "  I  never  looked  at  it  in 
that  light.  Where  does  the  insult  come  in? 
I  tail  to  see.  It  can't  lie  in  the  fact  that  two 
worthy  young  men  are  sighing  and  wooins 


20 


■i.-I£l  WAS,  LIBRARY. 


at  your  feet.  Look  at  lis  Won't  we  make 
loyal  and  uoble  brothers-iii-l;iw  V" 

He  waved  his  ham!  draniiitirally  at  his 
grinuiufi  ally,  aud  tJie  iriiis  wi^iv  di'iveu  to 
desperation.  Their  hearts  wrre  liki-  lead,  and 
tliev  could  no  longer  retain  their  talmness, 

"For  Heaven's  sake,"  said  Lena,  faintly, 
"go  away!" 

••What,  so  soon?  And  our  wooing  has 
only  begun!  Fair  Lena,  I  am  surprised. 
Sueh  coldness  is  not  due,  so  far  as  time  is 
eoucerried,  imtil  at  least  three  mouths  after 
marriage." 

••Captain  Keeler,"  said  Olive,  "do  you 
rail  vfinrself  a  gentleman  to  use  sueh  words 


.said  Olive. 

but  never  mind.  We 
■I'  going  now,  but  I  trust 
will  show  you  the  way 


'•Silence,  you  idiot!"  growled  the  chief. 

And  then  they  said  good-by  and  went 
away. 

The  sisters  were  left  alone  with  their 
trouble,  but  they  knew  at  last  just  what  to 
expect.  Keeler  had  shown  his  hand,  and 
they  knew  he  had  the  will  to  carry  out  his 
plans. 

"  What  shall  we  do?"  Lena  iisked,  turning 
for  advice  and  encouragement  to  herstrong- 
er  niitided  sister. 

••  \Ve  nuist  in  some  way  get  word  to  Gen- 
eral Price,"  was  Olive's  decided  answer. 
"  If  we  can  do  that,  we  are  saved.  He  is  a 
soldier,  and  such  men  will  never  see  women 
persecuted.  It  is  well  known  that  he  does 
not  countenance  the  acts  of  Keeler,  and  I 
suspect  he  would  be  glad  to  have  a  case 
pressed  so  that  he  coulil  (li-|)iivi'  him  of  liis 
command.  The  Soutlinn  (oiilodorai  y  is 
not  an  upholder  of  wanton  ,ruelly  ami 
depredation." 

"  But  we  have  no  way  toget  word  to  him." 

"  We  must  find  a  way  '" 


and  V 
Lei 
They 
door 
wind. 
provi 


else." 
lilt   her   as   she  spoke, 
lu  which  had  but  one 
eked,  while  the  single 
ed  on    the  inside,    and 
y  blinds  on    the   outer 
side.    A   small   lamp"  lighted  the  place  and 
the  furniture  was  scanty  and  plain. 
"  I  repeat,  we  must  find  a  way,"  said  Olive. 
"  The  Union  army  is  marching  on  Spring- 
field." 

"  Yes,  and  the  brave  Pathfinder  will  reach 
here ;  but  our  enemy  will  take  us  and  flee 
before  they  arrive.  We  must  aid  ourselves. 
I  wish  that  Max  Barlow  knew  of  our  situa- 
tion." 
"  You  are  proud  of  him,  Olive." 
"  I  am,  Lena,  and  I  expect  to  see  the  Path- 
finder's body-guard  accomplish  wonders. 
Lena,  sister,  I  wish  it  was  as  well  with  you. 
Edgar  Peterson 


justice  done  Edgar,  and,  sooner  or  later, 
man  will  be  glad  to  put  a  lofty  monument 
over  his  grave.    I  know  it!" 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

:  MARCH  OF  THE  GUABD. 

1  the  Pathfluder'.sguardleft  the  arm 


iugtield,   much 


■my 
left 


led  that 
Ml'  and 
is  tlirec- 


Wh- 

and  started  f  o; 
to  the  discreti. 

Geutial  Fiv 
thetoivn  Avas 
four  linndrrd 
tious  -vvorr  loi-  tho  ,-nard  to  rf.onn..itcr  the 
place  while,  if  the  lead.-r  ooiisidi-red  it  ad- 
Jvisable,  hi;  might  attempt  the  capture  of  the 
"whole. 

And  so  the  guard  started  on  an  expedition 
which  was  to  win  for  them  great  glory  and 
give  their  names  a  place  iii  the  history  of 
the  United  States  as  long  as  the  republic 
exists.*  j 

Few  words  were  spokcu  by  tho.«e  warlike  I 
men    which    were   not    necessary  '  "'  "  ° 
probable  that,  in  the  niiud 
ning    one    thought 
~*A  full  account  of  the  guard  may 
General  Fremoat's  litUe  volume,  '•  The  Story 


guard  was  but  a  romantic  idea,  and  the  men 
only  fit  for  parade  and  show. 

At  last,  though  they  had  proved  their 
courage  iu  miuor  coiilli.is,  tiny  were  going 
forward  to  stiiko  ilicii  lirst 'loul  blow  lor 
the  cause  they  uphold,  nnd  in  overy  man's 
mind  was  a  sottloo  ]mii|»i>o  to  show  the 
world  of  what  niatoiial  lho^   ^^ ,  iv  made. 


M;l,|ll 


Wo.^l.ibor-  and 
lio  lollowcd  were 
gonyi's  adjutant, 


II  Ilio  I  o:i.lri'  !:iiiv  1,1  liud  the  latter's  name 
on  t lie  list  o I  ]i:nii(  ipnnts  in  the  expedition, 
it  will  111-  nndoislood  that  we  are  covering  a 
real  charaitci  ninlora  liititiousname.  This, 
an  author  must  tioijuonlly  do. 

With  the  guard  wont  another  famous 
cavalry  troop,  of  wliicli  we  have  before 
made  mention.  This  was  Major  White's 
company,  called  the  "  Prairie  Scouts." 

United,  they  numbered  upward  of  three 
hundred  men— as  gallant  a  force  as  ever  trod 
the  soil  of  Missouri. 

They  made  good  progress,  but,  to  Barlow, 
they  seemed  to  creep.  He  remembered  the 
note  he  had  received  in  regard  to  Olive 
Somers  and  her  sister,  and,  to  save  his  life, 
he  could  not  fix  his  mind  on  the  work  be- 
fore them. 

Well,  perhaps,  it  was  for  the  guard,  that 
the  unhappy  sergeant  was  not  tlieir  leader 
that  day;  but  where  is  the  man  who  can 
wonder  at  his  feelings  ? 

Sharpshot  rode  with  the  guard  for  ten 
miles,  then,  after  a  few  words  with  Zagonyi, 
he  gave  his  horse  the  spur  and  dashed  on 
ahead. 

The  night  was  cold,  and,  hardy  as  the  men 
were,  they  shivered  occasionally  as  they 
rode.  Not  one  had  an  overcoat,  and  when  a 
slight  rain  descended,  officers  and  men  had 
to  boar  it  alike,  but  they  did  this  without  a 
nnii  iiiur,  and  went  on  as  fast  as  convenient. 

Si.iingfield  lies  well  among  the  Ozark 
Monii  tains,  but  the  troopers  made  use  of  the 
]!oliv:n'  1  oad  whin  possililo,  anil  in  this  way 

Hill  low  i\iisan\ion>   tor   soivioo,  and  deep 

it  he  again  set  eyes  ou  Kicler,  oue  of  them 
would  never  come  out  of  the  combat  alive. 
He  still  rode  the  horse  he  had  so  strangely 
acquired  from  the  guerrilla,  and  he  hoped  to 
ride  the  noble  animal  when  fighting  his 
master. 
Over  fifty  miles  lay  between  the  Pom  me 


object.  He  had  gone  in  advance  to  look  the 
town  over  and  give  Zagonyi  points,  and  as  it 
was  necessary  to  hear  from  him  before  ven- 
turing too  near,  their  pace  was  at  last  mod- 
erated to  a  degree  that  nearly  drove  Barlow 
wild. 

A  little  past  noon,  word  was  leeeivedfrom 
a  Union  man   that  the  Confederates  were  iu 


aha 


lorce  as  was  uiai-cuiug  agaiust  ii,  out  luis 
news  instead  of  pleasing  the  guard  served 
to  disappoint  them.  They  wanted  a  fight, 
a  hard  one,    where    one   side   or  the  other 


lin;:iTs,  so 


Jofihe     1'' 


11.  Zagonyi  was  afraid  the 
rnu  and  slip  through  his 
ft  the  "Prairie  Scouts,"  and 
with  Ills  own  command  crossed  over  to  the 
Mount  Vernon  road  where  he  would  be  in 
the  Confederate  rear. 

While  executing  this  maneuver,  Sharp- 
shot  made  his  appearance. 

"It's  did,"  he  said,  abruptly,  after  salut- 
ing the  major.  "  I've  ben  nigh  enough  ter 
the  inemy  ter  see  the  whites  o'  their  eyes, 
an'  they  are  thar!" 

He  pointed  toward  Springfield. 

"  How  many?"  Zagauyi  quietly  asked. 

"They  count  above  two  thousand." 

The  Hungarian  looked  surprised. 

"All  things  are  possible,"  he  said,  "but 
are  you  sun-  of  this?  Four  or  five  hundred 
is  what  we  liavo  heard." 

"  riii\  vo  iioon  reinforced  by  fifteen  hun- 
ilrod  inoio,  nigh  about  half  o'  which  is 
i-avaliy.  Thi-iv  are  big  guns,  too,  an'  I  tell 
ye,  major,  they  looked  formidable." 

The  s(«ut  spoke  earnestly.    It  was  not  his 

lace  to  advise,  unless  invited,  but  he  be- 
ieved  the  enemy  too  strong  to  be  attacked, 
and  knowing  the  mettle  of  Zagonyi  and  his 


guard  he  feared  they  would  do  something 
rash.  Consequeutly,  he  wished  to  Impress 
the  major  with  an  idea  of  what  was  before 
them. 

"  Two  thousand— and  we  are  one  hundred 
and  fifty!" 

Zagonyi  spoke  thoughtfully  and  looked  in 
the  ilirection  of  the  Bolivar  road.  Some- 
where there.  Major  White  and  his  "Prairie 
Scouts"  were  moving,  and  the  Hungarian 
wished  all  were  together  then. 

"  Two  thousand,"  .said  Sharpshot,  "an'  all 
ablecze  with  weepoiis  and  gewgaws.  They 
are  armed  to  the  teeth,  an'  I  reckon  Fre- 
mont won't  find  it  easy  ter  clear  Spring- 
field." 

Cunning  words  he  spoke,  but  Zagonyi  did 
not  seem  to  hear  them.  He  sat  still  on  his 
horse  and  looked  steadily  at  vacancy.  Once 
his  lips  moved,  and  Sharpshot  caught  the 
words : 

"  Two  thousand !" 

It  was  a  fateful  pause  in  the  history  of  the 

fuard.  EveiN-  man  was  looking  at  IZagonyi. 
t  had  bo.-ii'  tlitir  ambition  to  capture 
Sprin^hold.  ;nid  it  was  hard  to  turn  back. 
Two  tlKHifaiid  men,  however,  were  very  dif- 
ferent from  four  huudred.  The  odds  were 
terrible. 

Still  Zagonyi  deliberated.  What  passed  in 
his  mind,  for  and  against  each  plan,  is  best 
known  to  himself;  but  Barlow,  spurred  on 
by  thoughts  of  Olive,  and  the  knowledge 
that  the  reputation  of  the  guard  was  at 
stake,  had  a  wild  hope  in  his  mind. 

At  last  the  leader  turned  to  his  men. 

"Soldiers,"  he  said,  "we  are  iu  front  of 
our  first  real  enemy.  We  have  now  to  de- 
cide whether  we  advance  or  retreat.  If  we 
go  on,  it  is  to  meet  terrible  odds.  They  are 
two  thousand  and  we  one  hundred  and  fifty. 
In  spite  of  all,  I  now  ask  you  to  go  forward. 
If  is  for  us  to  make  the  fiitnie  reputation  of 
the  guard.  Men  have  said  that  we  are  but 
parade  soldiers,  but  if  you  will  follow  me 
we  will  achieve  a  viitoiy.  Shall  we  ad- 
vance?" 

A  shout  arose  from  the  men.  Every  eye 
was  glistening— all  were  eager  to  strike  for 
their  good  name,  for  Fremont  and  the 
Union. 

"I  do  not  ask  any  man  to  go  who  does  not 
wish  to.  If  any  one  is  sick,  or  fatigued  by 
marching,  let  him  step  forward  and  I  will 
excuse  him." 

Not  a  man  moved.  All  were  worn  out 
from  marching,  but  not  one  was  willing  to 
turn  back. 

The  eyes  of  Zagonyi  glistened  iu  turn.  He 
was  a  veteran,  used  to  war  and  its  terrors; 
but  these  voniig  soldiers  were  all  men,  who, 
a  few  moiltli...  before,  had  not  had  a  thought 
of  sueh  work.  He  bad  learned  to  love  the 
body-guard,  one  aud  all,  and  to  think  them 
of  rare  excelleuce;  and  now,  as  the  proof 
came,  it  was  the  proudest  moment  of  hie 
life." 

"  Lead  us  to  the  enemy !"  said  one,  and  all 
echoed  the  lequest. 

"There  will  be  hard  fighting,  for  they  are 
many  in  number;  but  if  you  will  keep  to- 
gether and  look  to  me,  and  do  as  I  expect 
you  to  do,  we  will  teach  them  to  remember 
the  bodyguard." 

Another  shout,  and  Zagonyi  was  satisfied. 
All  were  ready,  all  were  anxious  for  the 
venture;  ill  all  the  command  there  was  not 
one  coward. 

But  think  of  the  odds!  One  hundred  and 
fifty  men  against  over  two  thousand!  If  a 
novelist,  out  of  the  lesources  of  his  own  in- 
ventive power,  wrote  of  such  a  thing  he 
would  be  denounced  as  having  outstepped 
the  bounds  of  reason.  To  veiify  what  we 
write,  let  the  reader  turn  to  the  pages  of  his- 
tory. 

Zagonyi  said  little  more.  He  placed  the 
guard  once  more  in  motion,  and  they  moved 
on  at  a  trot. 

Sharpshot  fell  back  to  Barlow's  side. 

"SeiL-eant,"  he  said,  "these  brave  critters 
uudnniitedlv  lire  ;;(iin'  ter  their  death." 

"Some  ot' tlirm  are,  I  have  no  doubt," 
Barlow  answer,  d. 

"It  is  not  well  t.i  sacrifice  sech  lives." 

"  Say  nothing  on  that  score,!  for  you  are 
as  lirave  as  any  here.  To-day,  the  guard 
either  clears  its  name  from  traducers,  or 
yields  up  the  ghost  in  fron..  of  the  foe.  If 
we  fall,  it  shall  be  with  our  faces  to  the 
rown.    Say  no  more." 

"They  are  sons  of  Missouri!"  said  the 
scout,  lifting  his  old  cap. 

"  Not  all.  Illinois,  Kentucky,  Ohio,  Iowa 
—these  and  other  States  are  represented; 
but  we  are  one  iu  our  devotion  to  the  Union, 


THE  WA.R  LIBRARY. 


21 


felt  his  heart  throb  ii 
lant  fellows. 

"  You  are  here,' 
don't  you  turn  l>ai:k 

"Ten  hunilic.l  h, 
back,"  sail!  thr  ^r,ui( 
and  conquer,  ur  dif  \ 

Barlow  lookt-d  at  h 
Perhaps  he  w:is  tliiul, 
the  band,  thf  sharpsl 
riflce  his  life:  but 
spolven  for  several  iii 

Then  Sharpshot  l)r. 

"Ithiuk,  ser-eant. 
an  idee  whar  the  fiirl 
get  iuside  Sprinsflelil 
ter  them." 

"Ifeartliat  Kp^ler 
at  the  first  ..pii.Tliuii 
elooiuilT. 

"Ef  wesiK-.-.v.i,  til 
emy  will  t;o  so  (|ni( 
time,  an'  vou  an'  in.' 
fur  this  thiii^.  luj  h 
an',  seein'  a.s  h.nv  K 
honor  of  hang 
one  or  twt>  good  raps 


e,  I 


with  these  gal- 
added.     '■■Why 


ng  that,  not  lieing  of 
loter  ought  not  to  sae- 
lo    more    words   were 

lUlteS." 

ke  tlie  silence, 
said  he,  "that  I  have 
are  hid.    If  we  once 
I'll  try  ter  lead  you 


is  hope  that  the  iu- 
tliat  thar  won't  be 
U  hrv  our  eyes  open 
1  you  iu  the  business, 
.1  oii(|.  did  me  the 
iliall  be  glad  to  get 
;  him  iu  return." 


member  the  body-guard.   Draw  sabers!    By 
the  right  flank— quick  trot^march !" 

At  the    word   they  started,  a   small  but 
ste-.uly  mass  of  Union  blue,  the  guardians  of 

'■ 1  Hag.    They  were  starting  on  a  charge 

ulii-li  lias  a  parallel  only  in  that  of  Napo- 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


THE   CHARGE. 

The  guard  went  on  at  a  quick  trot.  Not 
much  furtlier  did  fliey  hare  to  go  to  reach 
Springfield,  and  thi  y  wished  to  move  quick- 
ly and  take  tin-  oiiHniy  by  surprise,  if  possi- 
ble. When  this  is  done,  a  small  force  will 
often  put  a  mil.  li  lai'ier  one  to  flight. 

Aceor.lin;;  to  I  In-  observations  made  by 
Sharpsliot,  tin-  i  on  federates  should  be  in 
the  center  of  the  town,  but  the  sequel 
proTed  that  enough  time  had  been  given 
them  to  allow  them  to  come  out  and  meet 
the  guard  on  ground  more  disadvantageous 
to  Zagonyi's  braves. 

The  latter  nuierged  from  a  wood,  and  saw 
before  tluiii  a  scone  which  would  have  dealt 
terror  to  In-arls  less  lirave. 

A  few  hnndrod  yards  away,  another  wood 
faced  thoni.  In  front  of  this  second  wood 
was  a  lull ;  and,  in  front  of  tlie  hill,  a  hollow 
throuirh  ^vhi.li  lan  a  tiiiiv  I. rook. 

Upon  tho  hill,  11,,-  frronnd  .-ould  scarcely 
be  seen  linanse  of  the  Confederates  that  were 
there. 

The  enemy's  infantry  was  awaiting  ihere 
to  the  number  ot  twelve  or  thirteen  hun- 
dred, while,  u  little  to  oneside,  four  himdred 
troopers  wpi-e  si-eii. 

And   this  ainiv    was  drawn    up   iu   battle 

array  to  i t  and   iiusli   the  little  handful 

of  Unioni-is.  \Vli\  they  had  come  in  such 
force,  «lon  bail  a- many  Would  haveseemed 
to  mako  vioioi  ■■  oi-iiain,  is  not  cloai-,  but  it 
may  In- thoi-  ha.!  :i  -nspioion  of  tho  mettle 
of  tho-ii;r,l. 

"Can  %oa  ■^..  i^r  (ilivo  throu-h  th.-m?" 
Sharpsh^l  ^^  :ii-|i.'i-d  in  Harlow's  oai-. 

"Thnumh  a.  million  n(  th.-ni,  if  need  I)e," 
was  tin-  an-vviT,  .jnicklv  uivon. 

"Many  a  man  will  ut-vi-f -jin  through  alive. 
See!  Wo  mu-t  liiar^o  tlnou-h  that  narrow 
lane,  acr..ss  tlnoii.kan'iii)  tho  hill.     At  the 


■  the 


straight  for  the 


thr 


iilry 


The  SI -out  spoi;..  with  porfeot  coolness,  and 
it  was  cvidi  nl  that,  llamgh  seeing  all  the 
dangers,  he  was  not  alarmed. 

"  we  will  not  be  shattered;  we  must  not," 
said  Barlow,  fiercely.  "  We  must  carry  and 
clear  the  town." 

Zagonyi  turned  to  his  men. 

"Comrades:"  h..  said,  "when  1  rooniited 
you,  I  said  the  I.ody--n;ird  was  not  for 
parade  lint  foi- wa I'.  'i'hoonom\-  isl.ofoiv  us, 
two  thonsaiiil  Mionu.  and  mo'  aio  l.ul  ono 
hundred  and  fifty.  It  is  )iossil.lo  not  (.no  of 
Ws  will  come  hack,  and  if  any  soldier  here 
thinks  the  enemy  too  many,  he  need  not  go. 
Who  turns  back?" 

Not  one  of  the  guard  moved.  All  sat 
steadily  in  their  places,  their  faces  to  the 
enemy,  their  lips  compressed,  the  signs  of 
a  settled  purpose  on  their  grand  fa^es.  They 
were  of  heroic  mold,  and  where  Zagoni  led 
all  were  ready  to  follow. 

A  look  of  joy  passed  over  the  leader's 
face.  As  well  as  he  thought  of  the  guard, 
he  knew  it  was  not  human  nature  for  young 
soldiers  to  be  so  brave,  and  their  calm  hero- 
ism thrilled  him  through  and  through. 

He  had  been  sufficiently  answered. 

"We  will  go  on,"  he  continued,  "  and  let 
your  battle-cry  be,  'Fremont  and  the 
Union  I'  Watch  me  well,  and  listen  for 
orders,  and  we  will  teach  'the  enemy  to  re- 


thcsharsii..,.! 
row  ulouK   1 

tacked. 

They  crossed  the  brook  and  reached  the 
feui'e.  It  could  not  be  leaped,  aud  ofBcers 
and  men  were  alike  eager  to  aid  iu  removing 
it.  Lieutenant  Majthenyi  cast  aside  a  rail, 
and  willing  hands  soou  made  a  breach. 

All  this  while  they  were  under  fire.    Fire- 


At  last  I  he  tome  was  down,  and  the  way 
was  open  lor  the  real  charge;  but  in  the  lane 
behiud  were  dead  men  and  dead  horses. 
Out  of  the  hundred  and  fifty,  forty  were  un- 
able to  participate  in  the  dash.  Of  these,  all 
were  not  dead — the  loss  was  chiefly  in  fallen 
horses. 

The  ordei-s  of  Zagonyi  rang  out  clearly, 
and  the  survivors  formed.  Their  battle-cry 
sounded,  and  they  started  up  the  hill  to 
meet  the  waiting  enemy. 

Almost  tmcousciously.  Barlow  glanced  at 
his  compauions.  Their  faces  were  stern  and 
resolute,  their  lips  eompressed  and  their 
eyes  gleaming.  Iu  spite  of  their  losses,  in 
spite  of  what  was  before  them,  they  longed 
for  close  quarters, 
nd  on  they  i 

the  sun,  and  as  they  chargeS  their 
suouis  rang  out  on  the  air  with  startling 
clearness.  Zagonyi  afterward  said  tha> 
their  battle-cry  sotmded  like  thunder. 

The  most  critical  moment  of  all  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  guard  was  at  hand.  They  were 
going  to  victory  or  certain  death.  For 
them,  there  could  be  no  retreat.  If  they 
showed  their  backs  to  the  enemy,  few  in 
number  as  they  were,  their  fate  was  sealed. 

It  seemed  a  mad  and  hopeless  venture — 
what  could  that  one  hundred  and  ten, 
brave  as  they  were,  do  agaiust  two  thou- 
sand? 

We  will  see. 

Up  the  hill  they  went  at  full  speed,  their 
shouts  ]ioaliMi;  forth  as  nover  those  of  "  pa- 
ra, lo  sol.hcis  ■  ha.l  .Ion..,  their  front  ten-iblv 
oniinons.  low  as  ih.y  u.ro;  but  the  enemy 
must  ha\o  lau^iii-d  ainoug  themselves. 
Snroly,  Iln_'se  were  hut  madmen   coming  to 

A  linllct  passed  between  Barlow's  side  and 
his  aini,  a  mau  fell  dead  beside  him,  the  fire 
was  t.rrihly  hot;  but  he  only  gripped 
liissal>er  the  tighter  aud  went  on  with  the 
rest.  He  glanced  at  Shar])shot— the  man  was 
■as  cool  as  any  one  could  be,  but  there  was  a 
look  on  his  face  like  that  ot  a  hungry  man. 


:inor's  field 


fori 


.TV  p..al...l  out!  How  gallant 
an  ^v]\tl  uttorod  it!  They  were 
■au.l  ohaptor  in  history. 

Tho  lidl  faiily  bristle. 1  with  Confederates. 
The  twolve  hundro.l  infantry  with  the  four 
humlred  cavalry  on  the  lllank— all  were 
awaiting  their  arrival,  confident  that  they 
would  be  absorbed  at  one  motion. 

The  hill  was  climbed,  the  intervening  dis- 
tance shortened— the  guard  hurled  them- 
selves on  the  foe ! 

Max  Barlow  grasped  his  sword  tightly  and 
plunged  into  the  affray.  A  soldier  reached 
out  his  hand  to  seize  the  horse  by  the  rein 
and  fell  with  a  cloven  skull.  Then,  striking 
right  and  left,  the  sergeant  went  on. 

"  Fremont  and  the  Union !" 

How  the  cry  rang  on  the  air,  arising  above 
all  other  sounds  and  thrilling  those  who  ut- 
tered it.     They  uttered  two  names  which 


were  dearer  to  them  than  their  lives— for 
those  two  they  risked  the  last. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  battle. 
That  little  compact  body  of  men  seemed  al- 
most to  disappear  as  they  struck  the  over- 
whelming odds  of  the  Confederates,  but 
they  were  there  and  fighting  gloriously. 
Their  sabers  were  red  with  blood,  their  faces 
Ilia,  k  with  smoke  and  dust,  but  still  they 
piosscl  forward. 

'J'ho  enemy  could  not  stand  before  them. 
Tiny  -a  ve  ground  aud  were  sharply  followed. 
Doail  an.l  woundod  covered  the  hill,  but 
nearly  all  w.iio  Confederate  gray.  The 
miar.l   i  ut    il..wn    .voiything  that  opposed 

Harlow  saw  Shaipshot  fighting  with  club- 
bed rillo.  Xot  a  w.iiil  passed  the  scout's 
lips,  Inif  his  w..rk  was  terrible.  He  struck 
crnshiim'  l.l.ius,  i-..  ..v.  rod  and  struck  again. 


nut.  His  potent 
vn  on  thebatJtle- 
vnig  a  way  for 
lo  guard  looked 
followed  where 


He  was  ah. .■..am.. 

Zagonyi  was  e\.i' 
sword,  whioh  had  v 
fields  of  Hungary, 
freedom  aud  tin-  r 
to  him,  as  he  had  s 
he  led. 

The  Confederates  recoiled.  ,Iust  why  it 
was  so  it  is  hard  to  say.  They  were  brave 
men  themselves,  mostly  of  the  same  grand 
stock  as  the  guard,  but  something  was  lack- 
ing to  make  them  equal  then. 

It  may  ha\  e  seemed  to  them  that  that 
littlo  liand  was  more  than  human. 

Diivon  back,  beset  with  such  fierceness, 
the  Confederates  lost  heart  and  turned  their 
backs.  The  cover  of  the  wood  was  at  their 
rear,  and  toward  this  the  infantry  went  at 
full  speed,  never  pausing  until  under  the 
shelter  of  the  trees. 

A  portion  ot  the  guard  had  engaged  the 
cavalry,  and  now  all  turned  upon  them.  It 
began  to  look  as  though  victory  would  be 
theirs,  but  the  odds  were  =till  four  to  one, 
even  greater  than  most  military  commanda 
would  dare  to  engage. 

"  Fremont  and  the  Union !" 

With  the  old  cry,  the  guard  precipitated 
itself  on  the  fresh  foe.  Horse  met  horse, 
sabers  clashed,  revolvers  cracked,  and  the 
rival  commands  were  in  a  death-grapple. 

They  surged  from  side  to  side.  The  guard 
had  met  a  foe  better  prepared  for  work  than 
the  infantry,  and  for  awhile  the  result  was 
iu  doubt,  but  slowly  but  surely  the  Confed- 
erates were  pushed'back. 

Zagonyi  afterward  said  that  he  had  seen 
charges,  but  never  one  like  that.  So,  too, 
an  admirer  might  almost  be  pardoned  if  he 
said  that  never  before  did  young  soldiers 
fight  as  then.  Their  blows  were  crushing, 
and  even  in  the  heat  of  battle,  they  remem- 
bered the  major's  teaching. 

Steadily  they  cut  a  red  i  oad  in  the  Con- 
federate ranks,  until  the  latter  must  have 
thought  them  demons ;  and  before  that  des- 
tructive pressure,  the  I'avalry  lost  heart,  as 
the  infantry  had  done,  recoiled,  abandoned 
themselves  to  confusion  and  fled. 

They  were  sharply  followed.  The  infantry 
had  been  allowed  to  go  where  they  pleased, 
but  against  the  troopers  the  guard  hurled 
themselves  persistently,  resolved  not  to 
leave  enough  to  make  another  stand. 

Their  work  was  well  done. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE     CAPTUKED     TOV 


I  111.-  mom.  lit  h..  wondered  what  had  become 
..f  him,  and  then  the  shock  came. 

As  the  battle  raged,  .Max  frc.|uontlv 
glanced  over  the  field  to  s..  how  the  li-h't 
was  going,  and  iu  this  way  his  alt.iiti.iu  hc- 
eame  U.yed  for  a  moment  upon  .uic  of  (ho 
Confederates  who  was  dashiug  about  ami 
wielding  a  saber  with  perfect  f liry. 

There  was  something  so  wild  and  eccen- 
tric in  the  movements  of  the  man,  so  out  of 
order  with  all  the  rules  of  service,  that  Bai-- 


again,  dealing  heavy  blows,  but  seldom 
pausing  to  follow  them  up,  and  really  doing 
little  damage,  while,  ever  and  anon,  he  ut- 
tered a  discordant  screech  which  may  or 
may  not  have  been  a  battle-cry. 

Barlow  was  unable  to  understand  it. 

Gradually,  it  dawned  upon  him  that  there 
was  something  familiar  about  the  man. 
Face,  form  and  manner,  seemed  like  some 
echo  from  the  past — where  had  he  seen  hJTii 
before  ? 

Ha!  he  remembered  him  at  last;  the 
strange  horseman  was  Yeaton,  the  madman 


22 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


useless   flght. 


he  had  fought  in  the  secret  room  of  the  man- 
sion near  the  Osage. 

He  had  barely  made  this  discovery  wtieu 
a  surge  of  the  fight  brought  them  near  each 
other.  Then,  something  drew  Yeaton's  gaze 
to  him  and  his  eyes  flashed  with  the  old,  mad 
light. 

"Ha!  ha!"  he.laughed,  wildly,  "so  I  have 
you  again !  I've  been  hunting  for  you  many 
a  day.  I've  found  you  at  last,  and  I'll  make 
you  adead  man  inside  of  three  seconds.  Take 
that!" 

He  accompanied  the  last  word  with  a 
vicious  blow  of  his  saber,  but  Barlow  easily 
paried  it,  and  gave  back  blow  for  blow. 
Their  sabers  clashed,  and  though  the  maniac 
showed  little  of  the  rare  skill  he  had  shown 
in  their  former  encovmter,  the  contest  waxed 
hot. 

Yeaton's  horse  was  a  fiery,  mettlesome 
charger,  ill-suited  for  the  business,  and 
many  strokes  were  thus  thrown  away,  liut 
the  affair  had  a  deeidcdlv  im^iiii'ss-lilif  iiir. 
Barlow,  however,  rennnili.  }eil  iliat  this 
man  was  insane,  and  tlu-  latli.  r  of  ,,n<'  ti> 
whom  he  already  owed  a  t;ieat  d.lrt  of  grat- 
itude. 

"Mr.  Yeaton,"  he  said,  "this  is  no  place 
for  you.    I  implore  you,  retire  to  the 
and  not  risk   your  life 
Where  is  your  son  ?" 

"  What  IS  that  to  you?"  was  the  fierce  re- 
ply. "What  is  that  to  me?  When  sons 
turn  against  their  sires,  it  is  time  for  sires  to 
fight.  Ha !  dog  in  Union  blue,  I  doubt  not 
but  that  you  tave  a  father  somewhere, 
loaded  down  with  chains.  My  curse  on  the 
age!" 

"Will  you  go  back?"  repeated  Barlow, 
"is  your  life  of  no  value?  Go,  and  save  it 
while  you  can!" 

"  Ha !  ha !  you  fear  me,  dog,  you  fear  me. 
Good  !  I'll  soon  show  you  what  the  old  man 
can  do.    I'll  show  you!" 

He  pressed  forward  with  hot  words  and 
hotter  blows,  but  even  while  his  salier  was 
raised  for  a  stroke  he  siiddcnh-  jiaused, 
dropped  the  weapon,  swayed  in  file  saildle 
and  then  went  headlong  to  the  ground. 
,  Barlow  looked  down  and  saw  a  red  stream 
'  flowing  over  his  hair,  and  then  he  realized 
'that  a  chance  shot,  fired  by  his  own  friends, 
iixad  entered  his  head  and  ended  his  career 
forever. 

He  had  died  fighting  for  the  Confederate 
cause  he  loved  so  well. 

Barlow  had  no  time  to  look  for  his  re- 
mains. The  surge  of  battle  bore  him  away, 
and  when,  a  little  later,  the  foe  fled,  he  had 
other  thoughts  on  his  mind. 

The  guard  held  the  ground  as  victors.  Of 
the  enemy,  horse  and  foot  had  taken  flight — 
the  two  thousand  had  been  dispersed  by  the 
hundred  and  fifty. 

But  where  were  the  hundred  and  fifty? 
The  remnant  of  the  guard  at  that  moment 
gathered  around  Zaganyi  did  not  count 
more  than  half  that  number.  The  other  halt 
lay  dead  or  wounded  along  the  red  line 
which  stretched  from  the  beginning  of  the 
lane  to  the  place  of  final  victory. 

The  battle  had  been  won— gloriously  won, 
butit  seemed  as  though  at  a  fearful  cost. 
Only  one  half  left !  Seventy  brave  men 
dead  or  djiug— but  the  loss  might  not  be  so 
severe  after  all.    Others  might  yet  be  found 


alive. 
Zagonyi  looked  at  his  braves  in 


ingled 


lie  ved,  but  many  a  face  was  absent  at  that 
moment.  Chamberlain,  Becker,  Schneider, 
Morrison,  Vanway — where  were  they  ? 

Zaganyi  could  hardly  find  words  to  ad- 
dress the  surviTors,  but  he  managed  to  ex- 
press his  sentiments,  and  the  guard  showed 
that  they  were  still  with  him  in  thought, 
word  and  deed. 

They  were  covered  with  blood  and  smoke, 
their  blue  uniforms  were  cut  and  soiled,  but 
ou  their  warrior  faces  was  the  old,  brave 
look  their  leader  had  seen  before  thegrand 
charge. 

Where  in  the  history  of  our  country  is 
there  anything  that  goes  before  that  day's 
work? 

Against  overwhelming  odds  they  had  won 
a  fight  which,  when  flashed  along  the  wires 
to  the  North,  thriUed  every  patriot's  heai-t 
with  joy  and  pride. 

Fremont's  body-guard  had  proved  its 
right  to  be  called  war  soldiers ;  more,  they 
had  proved  their  right  to  be  called  heroes. 

Zagonyi  formed  the  remnant  and  set  their 
faces  toward  the  town.  It  was  practically 
t-aptured;  he  felt  sure  no  armed  resistance 
would  meet  them  there,  and  he  knew  that 
many  Union  people  would  hail  their  arrival 
«dth  joy. 

Sergeant   Barlow   was   not  among  those 


"Quick!  This  way.  Max!"  said  the  scout, 
hastily.  "  I've  seen  the  whole  crew,  and  I've 
seen  the  girls.  Keeler  and  Sam  Stiles  are 
carrying  them  off.  Quick,  I  say,  and  we 
will  save  them  yet!" 

Barlow  ueeded  no  second  bidding.  He 
forgot  then  that  he  might  be  neglecting  his 
official  dirty— he  forgot  all  except  the  fact 
that  the  woman  he  loved  was  in  peril,  and, 
brave  soldier  though  he  was,  his  heart  was 
as  tender  as  that  of  a  woman. 

Few  truly  brave  men  are  otherwise.  Many 
do  not  yield  to  the  tender  passion,  but  even 
they  respect  and  admire  the  sex  that  refines 
and  elevates  them. 

Away  went  the  two.  Max  and  the  scout, 
and  as  tliey  rode,  the  latter  explained  what 

K.-.  Itr  had  been  with  the  infantry,  accom 
paiiicil  liy  his  men,  but  they  had  been  curtly 
treated  by  the  Confederate  leader  and 
obliged  to  keep  at  the  rear.  Thus,  the  guer- 
rilla chief  kept  out  of  danger,  but  he  had  at 
first  been  tempted  to  disregard  orders  and 
sweep  down  on  the  guard. 

When,  however,  he  saw  the  Confederate 
force  go  to  pieces,  he  realized  that  the  day 
was  lost.  He  and  Stiles  had  made  arrange- 
ments for  leaving  Springfield  the  following 
niglit,  taking  Olive  and  Lena  with  them,  but 
he  liad  not  liad  au  idea  that  the  guard  would 

S.ciiiir  liiai  it  was  so  to  be,  he  sent  two 
men  to  tal<i-  the  girls  from  thehouseand 
move  away  ou  the  safest  road,  and  after  a 
little  delay,  he  and  Stiles  set  out  to  join 
them. 

Thus  it  was  that  Sharpshot,  while  scout- 
ing, chanced  to  see  the  girls  in  company 
with  Keeler,  Stiles  and  the  other  two  men. 
They  were  leaving  town  by  the  Osceola 
road,  and  Sharpshot  knew  that  only  quick 
work  would  prevent  the  guerrilla  from  get- 
ting them  more  completely  in  his  power 

So  across  the  field  went  the  pursuers, 
heading  straight  for  the  Osceola  road,  and 
their  gallant  horses,  jaded  as  they  were, 
covered  the  ground  in.flne  style. 

It  did  not  take  them  long  to  reach  the 
road,  and  then,  a  mile  ahead,  they  saw  the 
party  they  were  seeking.  Keeler  had  sent 
his  band  by  another  route,  intending  to 
cage  his  prisoners  and  join  his  men  after- 
ward, so  it  happened  that  he  had  but  three 
with  his  unwilhng  lady  companions.    - 

"  We've  got  'em  sure,"  said  Sharpshot,  ex- 
ultantly. 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that." 

"Why  not?" 

"Our  horses  are  jaded  by  a  fifty  mile 
march,  and  a  hard  fight,  while  theirs  are 
probably  fresh." 

"  But  our  stock  is  better  nor  their'n,  or  it 
should  be.  Thar  ain't  many  bosses  in  Mis- 
souri ekul  ter  the  guard's,  an'  our'n  are 
among  the  best." 

"  Keeler's  men  rode  good  stock  the  night 
they  chased  us  across  the  Osage,  and  they 
prolmbly  have  the  same  among  the  Ozark 
Mountains." 

"Meljlie  you  are  riglit,  sergeant,  but  we 
will  soon  Pee." 

Thi-y  were  speeding  rapidly  along  the 
Osceola  road,  always  watching  the  cloud  of 
dust  aliead  which  betrayed  the  position  of 
the  women-stealers,  and  their  own  horses 
were  going  nobly.  Their  speed  was  some- 
thing to  wonder  at,  after  all  they  had  en- 
dured, but,  as  Sharpshot  had  said,  there  was 
no  better  stock  in  Missouri. 

During  the  first  mile  of  the  chase  there 
was  no  perceptible  change  in  their  relative 
positions,  but  Barlow,  seeing  they  did  not 
gain  any,  grew  despondent.  If  the  pursued 
could  hold  their  own  for  awhile,  the  tired 
horses  of  the  Unionists  must  surely  give 
way. 

Sharpshot,  too,  seemed  to  see  the  danger, 
but  it  only  served  to  put  his  mts  to  work. 

"  Sergeant,"  he  said,  "I've  got  an  idee." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  The  road  bends  above  hyar,  as  you  know, 
an'  ef  they  stick  to  it,  why  can't  I  make  a 
dash  through  the  woods  in  a  straight  hue  an' 
head  'em  oft?" 

"Sure  enough;  I  did  not  think  of  that. 
We  will  both  go." 

"No." 

"Why  not?" 

"The  varmints  know  they  are  pursued, 
an',  o'  course,  are  watchin'  us.  Ef  we  both 
disappear,  they  will  suspect  the  truth,  an', 
turnin'  off  somewhar,  easily  get  out  o'  our 
way." 


"  You  are  right  there,  but,  even  If  you  do 
get  ahead  of  them,  what  can  you  do  ?  They 
are  four;;  you,  but  one." 

"We  took  bigger  odds  when  the  guard 
charged.  Don't  ye  fear  fur  me,  sergeant. 
You  know  I  kin  sling  lead  some,  but  you 
don't  know  how  much.  Let  me  at  them 
pison  varmints,  an'  I'll  make  'em  howl." 

"Have  your  way,"  said  Barlow,  "but,  I 
implore  you,  do  not  risk  too  much.  Your 
life  is  too  valuable  to  be  thrown  away. 
Your  hand,  Sharpshot!" 

They  crossed  palms,  riding  at  a  gallop, 
looked  steadily  into  each  other's  eyes ;  then 
a  smile  crossed  the  face  of  the  sharpshooter. 

"Hyar  we  part,"  he  said,  "  Ijut  we  shall 
meet  again.  Don't  get  the  blues  on  my  ac- 
count. I've  come  through  many  a  close  rub, 
an'  I'm  good  fur  more.    Good-day!" 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A     DESPERATE     DCEL. 

With  the  last  word,  the  scout  dropped 
Barlow's  hand,  and  turned  toward  the 
bushes.  He  urged  his  horse  from  the  road, 
its  feet  touched  the  leaves  and  dry  sticks  of 
the  wood  proper,  Sharpshot  turned  and 
waved  a  farewell— then  he  was  gone. 

Barlow  looked  after  him  with  very  friend- 
ly eyes. 

"  Brave  fellow !"  he  muttered,  "  nothing  is 
too  risky  for  him  to  dare.  I  don't  know  what 
will  come  of  this  lat«st  venture,  but  it  al- 
most seems  as  though  he  bears  a  charmed 
life.  Oh!  why  can't  I  ride  down  those  fel- 
lows in  front?" 

He  urged  on  his  horse  with  a  guilty  feel- 
ing, for  he  knew  the  noble  animal  was  al- 
ready doing  all  tliat  could  justly  be  asked  of 
it;  but  ho!s,-tli"-h  must  uotstaud  in  the  way 


He  wat.il,  (l  tl 
fulthat  tin-  ifw 
slip  out  of  his  fingers,  but  never  pausing  t 
reflect  that,  if  they  turned  at  bay,  they 
would  be  four  to  one  against  him. 

What  signifies  odds  when  a  soldier  rides  to 
aid  the  woman  he  loves? 

And  Sharjishot — what  of  him  ? 

He  had  quickly  disappeared  from  Barlow's 
sight  and  hearing,  but  he  was  working  man- 
fully to  accomplish  his  undertaking.  His 
way  was  all  through  the  wood  which,  though 
for  the  most  part  open,  now  and  then  drop- 
ped a  bunch  in  his  path  which  compelled 
him  to  bend  low  to  avoid  a  collision. 

He  had  set  his  mind  on  cutting  off  the 
guerrillas,  and  we  have  already  seen  that  he 
was  a  man  of  resolution.  When  he  left  Max, 
it  was  with  the  expectation  that  he  would 
have  to  encounter  the  whole  four  of  the  en- 
emy, and  if  it  came  to  that  he  would  not  be 
particulai-  about  the  way  he  dealt  with 
them. 

No  outlaws  of  our  country,  before  or  since 
the  war,  were  more  lawless  than  Keeler's 
t>and  bad  lieen.  As  we  have  before  said,  he 
laid  the  desire  for  plunder,  not  the  good  of 
the  tsouthcru  Confederacy,  in  his  mind,  and 
lie  was  cordially  feared  and  detested  by  all 
classes  in  the  Ozark  region. 

For  a  long  while  he  had  plundered  indis- 
criminately, but  the  Confederate  generals 
had  finally  sent  him  such  positive  warning 
that  he  ceased  to  openly  annoy  the  sympa- 
thizers with  the  cause,  though  he  still  re- 
mained a  robber. 

Against  such  a  man  any  hostile  ac  t  would 
be  fair ;  while,  of  the  men  at  this  time  with 
him,  Sam  Stiles  was  as  bad  as  he,  and  the 
other  two  showed  their  material  by  the 
company  they  kept. 

For  half  an  hour  Sharpshot  rode  at  full 
speed,  and  then,  without  pausing,  looked 
carefully  to  his  weapons.  He  was  neariug 
the  Osceola  road,  and,  unless  the  kidnapers 
had  gone  faster  than  he  thought,  an  encoun- 
ter would  soon  come. 

He  rode  into  the  traveled  way,  and  stopped 
his  tired  horse. 

The  road  lay  white  and  dusty  before  him, 
hemmed  in  by  trees;  but,  as  far  as  he  could 
see,  no  other  person  was  visible.  He  leaped 
from  his  saddle  and  looked  at  the  ground. 
No  fresh  tracks  were  visible,  and  he  knew 
the  guerrillas  had  not  passed. 

Looking  along  the  road,  in  the  direction  of 
Springfield,  he  saw  a  single  horseman  ap- 
proaching. One  glance  was  enough  to  show 
him  that  it  was  not  one  of  Keeler's  men. 
The  unknown  wore  citizen's  garmente,  and 
was  riding  along  leisurely;  his  air  was  not 
that  of  a  fugitive. 

Sharpshot  looked  at  him  keenly.  He  would 
have  taken  to  cover  for  him  to  pass,  but  the 
attention  of  the  stranger  was  already  upon 
him,  and  he  stood  still. 

A  little  later  the  scout  started  slightly.  He 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 


23 


The   scout 
he  finally- 


had  recognized  the  man ;  he  was  the  young- 
er Yeaton,  who  had  already  done  so  much 
for  at  least  one  of  our  friends.   ^     ^      ,  , 

He  reached  where  Sharpshot  stood,  and 
the  recognition  was  mutual.  ""—  '""" 
nodded. 

"  Eveuin',  Mr.  Yeaton,  evenir 
said.    "  Out  for  an  airin' ?"  ^   ^.      ^  „ 

"Out  for  my  health,"  answered  the  ton- 
federate,    grimly:    "out   of    Springfield,    I 
mean.    Zagonyi  aud  the  guard  have  made  it 
too  hot  there  for  wearers  of  the  gray." 
Sharpshot  smiled,  and  then  grew  grave. 
"  I'm  glad  ter  see  you,  partner,  fur  I  have 
somethin'  ter  say.    Are  you  in  a  hurry  ?" 
"No." 

"  Then  let  me  talk  ter  you  a  bit." 
Tin-  scout  rode  nearer,  and  l.icgau  speaking 
rapuUy  and  earnestly.  What  he  said  will  lie 
told  iii  due 'iine;  suffice  it  to  say,  tor  now, 
that  he  held  the  attention  of  the  Confeder- 
ate to  the  end;  and  when  he  liad  tinished, 
Yeaton  held  out  his  hand  frankly. 

"  You  can  count  on  me;  I  am  with  you, 
he  earnestly  said. 

They  still  stood  with  clasped  hands,  when, 
looking  down  tlic  r.iad.  Sliaipsiiot  saw  Keel- 
er  and  his  prisoners  apiucailiiiiL'.  AH  w^ie 
there,  the  two  giiN  and  the  leiir  raptors, 
and  the  scout's  laii'  -i.w  sI.t  ii  aiai  s^i. 

"The  decisive  niomeiit  is  at  lianil,  lie  sam. 
"  Either  I  win  now,  against  odds,  or  die  with 
my  face  to  the  foe." 

'^^  It  is  a  great  risk "  began  \  eaton. 

"  I  will  have  it  so,"  was  the  firm  answer. 
"  I  beg  of  you,  do  not  interfere." 

The  guerrillas  and  their  prisoners  ap- 
proached. Sharpshot  and  Yeaton  sat  on 
their  horses  iu  their  path.  Keeler  regarded 
them  sliarply,  but  seemed  inclined  to  remain 
sileut,  for  neither  of  them  wore  a  umtorm, 
and  he  had  not  recognized  them. 
Sharpshot  put  out  one  hand. 
"Wait  a  moment.  Captain  Keeler,'  he 
said.    "  I  have  a  word  to  say  to  you 

"  Be  quick,    then," 
"I'm  in  haste." 

"  So  I  see.    Women  stealers  usually  are  in 
a  hurry." 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 
"  Simply  that  I  know  you  and  your  pris- 
oners, and  that  I  am  here  as  your  enemy.    If 
you   go  on,   outlaw,   you  must   fight   your 

"I  reckon  we  can  do  that,"  Keeler  an- 
swered ,  with  a  sneer. "  "  I  see  no  formidable 
obstacle.  But  who  are  you  that  gets  in  my 
way  so  rashly  ?" 

'The  man  you  hung  in  the  wood  near  the 


earnestly  to  Sharpshot.  The  latter  remained 
as  cool  as  ever.  He  was  going  to  risk  his  life 
against  odds,  but  it  was  not  in  his  nature  to 

^Ke'Ser  |avethe  signal,  and  the  deadly  ene- 
mies swept  toward  each  other  at  a  gallop. 
Sharpshot  held  a  revolver  in  each  hand, 
while  in  his  belt  were  two  more,  the  prop- 
erty of  Yeaton.  •       ,        n 

■The  latter  watched  anxiously.  It  was  a 
strange  fact,  but  only  <ai.-  ..t  the  peculiar- 
itesof  war,  th.it  all  his  syiniiaihy  was  with 
the  singleman  and  against  tlinse  who  wore 
the  gray  of  the  cause  he  loved  so  well. 

Around  the  charging  men  the  dust  rolled 
up,  but  did  not  conceal  their  movements. 
He  saw  Sharpshot  sitthig  boldly  in  his  sad- 
dle and  soarcclv  breathed  as  he  looked  for 
the  next  move  in  the  game. 

The  scout  had  said  that  his  revolvers 
would  carry  mucn  further  than  an  ordi: 


eapoii   o 
lem  befo 


s-hy  did  he  not 
,late? 


Barlow,  Olive  and  Lena  had  advanced  to 
the  side  of  Stiles  and  Yeaton,  and  the  ser- 
geant was  shaking  the  noble  Confederate  bj 
the  hand.  The  girls  looked  on,  joy  in  their 
faces,  and  the  color  gradually  creeping  back 
to  their  cheeks. 

Sharpshot  joined  them. 

"Ain't  you  got  airy  a  welcome  far  me/ 
he  asked,  with  assumed  anger. 

"Do  you  think  '  "'''      ' 

looking  object?" 


could  welcome  such  a 
demanded  Barlow,  langh- 
htto  look  at  yourself  iu  a 
glass.  Your  face  is  as  striped  as  a  zebra's, 
and  your  red  wig  is  on  awry.  My  good  lel- 
low,  you  may  as  well  oast  off  yc 


disguise. 


gruff  reply. 


-■hjlf 


Je  had  previously  learned  that  the  at- 
tempted execution  had  been  a  failure,  and 
when  Sharpshot  revealed  his  identity  he 
remembered  him  well.  So  homely  a  man  as 
tJie  spy  was  not  easily  forgotten. 

"You  attempted  to  hang  luc  that  night 
and  failed.    Now,  I  am  here  to  square  the 
account,  and  to  take  your  prisoners  away. 
Keeler  laughed. 

"  You  have  assurance  enough,  at  anyrate. 
Do  you  see  that  we  are  four  against  two  I 

"  1  am  willing  to  take  greater  odds.  Listen 
to  my  proposal:  I  am  a  man  of  deeds,  not  of 
words,  as  I  will  convince  you ;  so  I  make 
this  offer :  I  will  fight  three  of  you  on  horse- 
back, our  weapons  to  be  revolvers.  You  shall 
retire  somewhere  and  leave  your  prisoners  in 
charge  of  your  fourth  man ;  then  the  other 
three  shall  dash  toward  me.  I  will  meet  you 
f  way,  and  then  let  our  quarrel  be  settled 
•niUets.    What  do  you  say 'i"' 

idea  which  Keeler,  as  a  fugitive, 
ou,.v...  „...  e  rejected,  as  afar  quicker  way 
would  have  1  >een  to  force  the  lighting  as  they 
were  \hen ;  but,  villain  though  he  was,  he 
was  a Vave  man,  and  wasforcibly  impressed 
bv  the  pvoposition.  ,      ,  . 

He  tnri  'd  to  Sam  Stiles,  who  was  looking 
on,  and  helu  a.  Mriet  consultation. 

Meanwhile,  Sharpshot  looked  at  the  girls, 
who  were  too  far  back  to  hear  what  was  be- 
ing said.    He  met  their  gaze,  and  it  seemed 
to  nerve  him  for  the  great  effort.    Better 
that  he  leave  his  body  in  the  road  than  that 
they  remain  captives  of  these  lawless  men. 
Keeler    turned     abruptly   to    the   sharp- 
shooter. .^.       „  ,         . , 
"  We  accept  your  proposition,"  he  said.  , 
"Then  let  each  party  retire  until  we  are 
a  hundred  yards  apart.    At  the  signal,  to  be 
given  by  yourself,  we  will  dash  toward  each 
other  and  Areas  we  see  fit.  But,  I  warn  you 
do  not  try  to  bring  your  muskets.    I  will  not 
brook  any  treachery." 

"  Rest  easy,"  said  the  guerrilla,  haughtily. 
"We  are  not   afraid   to   fight  as    we  have 

Both  parties  retreated  until  a  hundred 
yards   lay   between   them.     Yeaton   spoke 


Ha!  a  crack, 

foes  the  unuan 
harpshot  has  selected  the  lesser  vuiain  oi 
the  three  for  his  first  victim  and  struck  well. 
The  man  does  not  arise,  and  is  plainly  out  of 

Then  the  fight  begins  in  earnest.  The  ice 
broken,  Keeler  and  Stiles  begin  arapid  fusil- 
lade and  the  revolvers  make  warlike  music. 
At  first  there  is  little  danger  for  the  bold 
scout,  for  the  distance  is  too  great  for  any 
but  such  marksman  as  he;  but  every  bound 
of  the  horses  takes  them  nearer  together, 
and  Yeaton  holds  his  breath. 

Sharpshot  wastes  no  lead.  He  is  a  man  ot 
strange  coolness;  he  knows  its  value,  and 
knows,  too,  that  he  is  a  dead  shot. 

He  lets  the  lead  whistle  past  his  head,  dar- 
ing death,  until  such  time  as  he  is  sure  of  his 
next  victim.  He  knows  the  fight  will  soon 
be  decided,  probably  before  they  close;  but 
he  realizes  that,  iu  the  foolish  way  the  guer- 
rillas are  firing,  the  only  danger  is  from  a 
chance  shot.  .  .       „. 

At  last  he  pulls  the  trigger  again.  His 
hand  is  steady,  his  aim  sure,  a,ud  at  the 
crack,  Keeler  reels  in  his  saddle,  clutches 
blindly  at  the  air  and  falls  to  the  ground. 
One  foot  clings  in  the  stirrup,  and  the  fright- 
ened horse,  starting,  drags  him  a  few  yards 
before  he  falls  free.  ,  ,      , 

By  that  time  more  work  has  been  done. 
Sharpshot,  with  only  one  foe  before  him, 
dashes  straight  ahead.  They  are  very  near 
each  other,  at  last,  and  Stiles  raises  his  re- 
volver for  a  sure,  steady  shot.  He  is  dis- 
turbed by  the  fall  of  his  companions,  and  re- 
alizes that  he  is  iu  peril,  but  he  hope^  to  end 
all  by  that  shot ;  so  he  covers  the  heart  of 
the  Union  scout. 


Max  spoke  in  a  happy  way,  and  Yeaton, 
who  had   been   looking    closely,    suddenly 

^  -"bv  my  life!"  he  said,  "I  believe  that  I, 
too,  know  you.  Has  (he  grave  given  up  its 
dead  ?    Arc  you  Edgar  Peterson  .' 

"I  don't  know  that  the  grave  has  any 
share  in  the  work,  but  I  am  Edgar  Peter- 

"  With  these  words,  Sharpshot  cast  off  his 
false  beanl  aud  his  wig,  rulibed  away  a  good 
deal  of  the  brown  stain  on  his  face-which 
had  become  streaked  through  abundant  per- 
si'nratimi-aud  sb.od  before  tliein  very  much 
tike  the  Ivlgai-  Peterson  of  the  old  days,  only 
more  ere.'t  and  manly. 

Barlow  caught  his  hand  warmly. 

"  Twenty-four  ho"'?  asoj^^^'^..^""!^^  „  ^t 
amazed  me 


.       CHAPTER  XXX. 

CONCLUSION. 

Sharpshot  saw  his  danger  and  was  equal  to 
the  emergency.  He  had  one  of  those  rare 
natures  which  enable  a  man  to  remain  as 
cool  in  the  hour  of  battle  as  m  times  of 
peace,  and  his  hand  had  not  forgot  its  cun- 

Just  as  Sam  Stiles  was  about  to  pull  th( 

trigger,  the  scout's  revolver  spoke  for  the 

third  time.  ,   ,  ,  .. 

Surely  aimed  the  shot  had  been,  for,  as  it 

."o-  out,  the  guerrilla's  own  revolver  fell  to 


but  now  I  am  not  surprised,"  he 

°  "When  did  you  first  suspect?"      . 

"  Just  before  the  guard  made  their  charge. 
You  forgot  yourself  then,  in  your  intensity, 
and  spoke  iu  your  natural  vole.  I  was  sure 
it  was  you,  but  I  kept  my  peace  and  resolved 
to  wait  until  the  proper  time.''  ,     .      ^^ 

"  I  knew  you  suspected  ine  then,  but,  as  1 
was  about  to  throw  off  the  mask,  cared  noth- 

'""-What  in  the  world  induced  you  to  adopt 

'"""To  hide^'myself,"  said  Peterson.  "It  is 
easv  to  tell  vou  why.  You  know  that  I  used 
to  be  a  miserable,  worthless  drunkard,  and 
you  know  what  aroused  Uie^mimhood^withm 
me.  I 
things 


ound,  and  his  arm  fell  helplessly  1 


rang 
the  gr 

Another  m-iment  and  Sharpshot  was  beside 
him,  and  f  Veadly  revolver  was  pressing 
against  his  temple.  . 

"  Surrender!"  cried  the  scout,  in  a  thrilling 
voice.    "Yield,  as  you  hope  for  hfe.'" 

"Drop  your  shooter,"  said  Stiles,  surlily, 
but  with  praiseworthy  coolness.  "  My  arm 
is  broken  short  off."  ,  ^^  ^     ,-,      a 

"  So  it  seems ;  but  you  have  a  left  hand  anA 
other  revolvers  in  your  belt.  I'll  relieve  you 
of  them  before  you  do  harm." 

He  suited  the  action  to  the  word,  and 
Stiles  sat  before  him  a  helplesi  prisoner, 
while  Yeaton  galloped  rapidly  toward  the 

Just  then  a  shout  sounded  from  down  the 
road,  and  they  looked  to  see  the  fourth  guer- 
rilla fleeing  before  the  rush  of  Max  Barlow. 
A  revolver  cracked,  and  down  went  the 
man     The  quartet  was  cleared  off  the  scene. 

Barlow  paused  before  Olive  and  Lena,  but 
Sharpshot,   his   face   still   stern,  turned   to 

"  Will  you  watch  this  man  while  I  take  a 
look  at  Keeler?"  he  asked. 

"Certainly.    Go  ahead." 

Sharpshot  went,  but  the  chief  was  beyond 
knowing  him.  He  was  still  breathing,  but 
conscioiTsness  had  forever  fled.  Seeing  this, 
the  scout  turned  away. 


1  the  beginning  of  war— and  other 


He  glanced  at  Lena,  whose  fair  face  was 
full  of  joy,  and  Barlow  nodded  quickly.    --  ^ 

"I  understand  all  that,"  he  said. 

"When  I  swore  neve,  a^ain  to  touch 
liquor,  and  to  do  mv  ut.iu.st  t..,-  the  t  mon, 
continued  Edgar,  "i' '"^■'■"'■■'■'1/" '"^  l^^lns: 
ought  to  prove  mysilf  a /)i<(/i  l.etoie  asking 
other  meS  to  trust  me.  Sharpshot,  the  sharp- 
shooter was  the  outgrowth  of  that  idea.  1 
assumed  the  disguise,  telling  only  one  person 
of  my  resolve."  ,  .,    , 

He  glanced  again  at  Lena,  and  she  smiled 

'^'^^jf  .J^a3°i„  everyway  fitted  for  the  charac- 
ter I  assumed.  1  was  a  fine  marksman,  a 
good  trailer,  and  experienced  in  all  kinds  •t 
border  warlare.  I  put  on  a  wig,  a  false  1  ,eard 
and  stained  my  face  with  berry -jukc,  ana 
even  Lena  did  lint  at  liist  reecignize  mr.  l 
sought  action  and  found  it.  lirst  nm"'!  'j™- 
eral  Lyon,  at  BoonviUe;  next.  I  lAa.-  with 
Sigel,  near  Neosho,  where  1  met  you,  .ind, 
afterward,  at  Wilson's  Creek.  At  these 
places  I  did  mybest  for  the  L  uion  'fuse, 
and,  in  this  way,  obtained  the  favor  of  the 
generals,  and  recommendations  which  alter- 
ward  served  me  when  I  sought  service  with 
General  Fremont.  . 

"All  was  not  clear  sadmg,  however.  I 
had  an  enemy  in  the  person  of  Sam  Stiles, 
who,  I  may  as  well  explain,  aspired  to  win 
Lena  Somers  for  his  wife.  ,  Before  your 
band.  Barlow,  marched  to  join  Sigel,  Stiles 
went  to  Keeler  and  the  latter  wrote  a  letter 
betraying  your  plans.  This  letter  was  in- 
tended to  ruin  me,  as  Keeler  imitated  my 
writing  wonderfully  well 


Now,  I  come  to  the  lynching  affair. 
Stiles  was  resolved  to  have  my  life,  so,  still 
being  in  your  band,  he  led  the  moli  against  ■ 
me  I  was  hung  by  the  neck;  but  just  then, 
a  dash  ot  Keeler's  guerrillas,  drove  away  the 
Ivuchers— an  accident  on  their  part  which 
Keeler  and  Stiles  afterward  soundly  cursed 
—and  I  was  left  hanging.  ,    ..     ^  *,, 

"  I  was  near  my  death  then,  but  at  the 
critical  moment,  Lena  appeared  and  cut  me 
down.  She  brought  me  back  to  conscious- 
ness and  then  I  made  a  resolution.  From 
that  hour  Edgar  Peterson  should  be  as  one 
dead  to  all  but  her  until  the  scout.  Sharp- 
shot,  had  proved  himself  a  man. 

"So  I  made  her  promise  to  remain  sdeut, 
even  to  Olive,  and  she  kept  her  word  while 
I  went  on  as  Sharpshot.  You,  Barlow,  and 
others,  were  mueh  perplexed  by  my  disap- 
pearaiue,  but  I  was  usually  near  you,  and 


24 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


ray  disguise  was  so  perfect  tliat,  with  my 
changed  voice  and  a  peculiar  twist  I  gave 
my  countenance,  you  did  not  recognize  rae." 
"You  remember  I  asked  yo\i  several  times 
where  we  had  met  before,"  s;iiil  Max. 

"So  you  did,"  answered  I'.il-ar.  knishing, 
"  but  Tou  could  not  peiintratc  tlie  di>vriiise. 
Now,  "as  vou  alreadv  know  that  it  was 
Kaeler  aii.l  Stiles  who  tried  to  kill  you  in  St. 
Ijouis.  ami  tliat  tin-  mysterious  letter  you 
J  i.'.-iM\  ii!  was  writti-i]  by  Mr.  Yeaton,  as  true 
5aiuaiia-  .-vtr  livi-d,  I  will  pass  on  to  the 
gluisr  v.iu  saw  in  the  wood. 

"KeVi'i.  littlf  Mispefting  that  I  was  Ed- 
gar PetHT<oii,  triid  to  hang  me  as  a  spy,  but 
I  escaped  tliiou^li  the  aid  of  a  Union  man 
who   was   tiia-inii-raibnc:  in   the  baud.    The 


iii.t;  discovered  you,  m 
pstnres  to  heighten  the 
ranished  as  soon  as  the 


turn,  1  iiiadi'  i 
impressinii.  ai 
moon  c-lniidrd.  ■ 

'  But  you  were  terribly  pale." 

"  All  vour  fancy,  ray  "dear  fellow,  for  you 
know  ghosts  ought  to  be  pale.  Very  likely, 
too,  the  moonlight  had  something  to  do  with 
It;  and  the  hanging  affair  may  have  taken 
away  some  color,  even  as  my  rough  experi- 
ence had  washed  away  a  good  deal  of  the 
Sharpshot  stain." 

"But,  you  rascal,  yon  told  me  you  believ- 
ed in  ghosts,  and  had  seen  them,"  said  Bar- 
low, In  assumed  anger. 

"I  took  delight  in  bothering  you,"  said 
Edgar,  laughing  lightly;  then,  growing  seri- 
ous; "  now,  Ma.xi  you  know  who  Sharpshot 
is,  and  I  ask  you  fairly,  have  I  proved  my 
right  to  be  called  a  man  ?" 

"You  have,  nobly  and  fully,"  said  Bar- 
low. 

"  I  have  not  touched  a  drop  of  liquor  for 
five  months,  and  I  never  shall  again.  After 
this  expedition  is  over,  I  shall  cast  aside  my 


role  of  the  sharpshooter  and  apply  for  service 
in  my  real  character.  I  hope  to  make  my 
name  honored!" 

"Heaven  grant  that  you  may!"  added 
Yeaton. 

Not  much  longer  did  they  stay  in  the 
wood.  They  bade  farewell  to  Yeaton,  and, 
with  Stiles  as  a  prisoner,  set  out  on  their  re- 
turn to  Springfield. 

When  Barlow  left  the  guard,  he  believed 
the  fighting  was  over,  but  some  of  the  Con- 
federates still  showing  a  bold  front,  they 
were  assailed,  driven  back  into  the  town, 
fought  in  the  streets  and  finally  utterly 
routed. 

Zagouyi  had  won  the  place,  and  the  Union- 
ists raine  out  tn  hail  them  as  deliverers. 
Mfii  I'lueivd,  and  women  waved  their  haud- 
li.T'-lin-ls— all  iicM' ^'lad  1(1  see  the  men  who 
had  iiia.l"  M,  uraiiil  a  cliame. 

Wlieii  Barlow,  Edgar,  and  the  two  sisters 
arrived,  they  found  a  scene  of  rejoicing, 
while  none  were  happier  than  Olive  and 
Lena. 

There,  we  will  leave  them.  Many  pages 
more  might  be  written  of  the  subsequent 
adventures  of  Max  and  Edgar,  but  with  the 
triumph  of  the  latter,  our  story  may  well 
end. 

Soon  after,  Springfield  was  occupied  by 
Fremont's  army,  Olive  and  Lena  were  sent 
under  a  safe  escort  to  St.  Louis,  where  they 
remained  to  the  end  of  the  war.  Their 
father,  too,  was  with  them,  for,  after  his  re- 
covery, he  had  no  desire  to  live  on  the  con- 
tested ground. 

Barlow  and  Peterson  served  faithfully  to 
the  end  of  the  great  war  and  both  won  re- 
nown. No  reproach  ever  fell  on  the  record 
of  the  latter  alter  he  had  nobly  cleared  his 
name;  and  when,  the  struggle  ended,  he  re- 
turned to  St.  Louis,  it  was  to  meet  the  un- 
dying love  of  Lena. 

We  need  scarcely  add  that  they  then 
united  their  fortunes  for  life,  or  that,  at 


the  same  time,  Olive  fcecame  the  bride  of 
Max  Barlow. 

Sam  Stiles  made  a  full  confession,  lan- 
guished in  prison,  was  exchanged ;  and 
then,  in  his  flrst  fight,  received  a  wound  of 
which  he  died,  a  week  later. 

Yeaton  served  the  cause  he  loved  to  the 
end  of  the  war,  and  if  he  was  in  the  wrong,  he 
believed  himself  right.  He  was  a  noble  fel- 
low, and  his  Union  friends  were  glad  to 
know,  in  the  peace  that  followed  the  war, 
that  he  was  on  the  old  plantation,  and  a 
happy  man. 

Of  Geueral  Fremout,  Major  Zagonyi  and 
the  guard,  much  more  might  be  written, 
but  they  are  characters  of  history,  and 
there  their  adveiituivs  properly  belong. 

The  guard  had  lost  heavily  at  Springfield, 
but  when  the  wouikUmI  Iuk)  ircovered,  and 
the  prisoners  been  leaaiii'-d,  the  actual  loss, 
in  dead,  was  but  <ev«uteeii,  and  that,  too, 
in  a  charge  against  such  overwhelming 
odds. 

Turn  where  the  reader  will  in  the  pages  i 


will  live  in  memory  for  many  years  I 
and  let  the  generations  that  live  in  the  fu- 
ture, give  all  honor  to  those  noble  men,  the 
"guard"  of  America. 

And  let  no  one  forget  Zagonyi,  the  hero  of 
two  continents,  the  brave  Hungarian  who 
unsheathed  his  sword  for  our  Union,  for  to 
him  belongs  honor  and  unbounded  respect. 

Brave  General  Fiemont,  whom  men  call  the 
"  Pathfinder  "—what  of  him?  The  man 
who  crossed  the  heart  of  the  continent,  who 
climbed  the  Rocky  Mountains  through  ice 
and  snow,  for  his  country's  good;  and  who 
afterward  stood  so  firmly  for  the  same  cause 
when  the  Union  was  menaced— he  is  ours, 
to  honor  and  admire,  while  the  nation  lives. 

And  so  we  leave  them  all,  for  our  story  is 
told,  adding,  only,  that  we  wish  all  happi- 
ness and  honor  to  those  who  were  in  various 
ways  connected  with  the  guard. 


THE  END. 


0^a.T.A.IjO<3-XJE3    or'    THIEJ    T7\7-ja.H.    IjT:BIt^a.Il.T. 


232-THE  WAR  DETECTIVE;  or.  Se- 
cret Service  in  the  Rebellion.    A 

Story  of  Booth's  Great  Ciinfiiiriicy.     liy  M.ij. 
A.  F.  Grant. 
233-PHIL,  THE  SCOUT  ;  or,  A  Fight 
for  Beauregard's  Dispatches.    A 


Lulul 


234-"TO  HORSE  ;"  or.  The  Winged 
Scout    of  Georgia.     Kv  Anthony   T'. 

235-LION-HEARTED  LUKE  ;  or,  The 
Plan  to  Capture  Mosby.  A  .^tory 
of  Perilous  Adventure  in  the  War  of  the 
Kebellinn.  Bv  Ward  Edwards,  "High  Pri- 
vate," U.  S.  V. 

236-THE  SWORD  CHAMPIONS  ;  or, 
Rival  Spies' of  Chancellorsville. 
A  Story  of  the  Battles  in  the  Thickets  of  the 
Rappahannock.    By  Anthony  P.  Morris. 

237-LOYALNED;or,TheLastCruise 
of  the  Alabama,  a  Komauce  of  the 
Famous  Rebel  Privateer.  By  the  author  of 
"  Before  PotcTsbur^." 

238-THE  RIVAL  CADETS;  or.  From 
West  Point  to  Battlefields.  A  Stir- 
ring- story  rf  Adventure  in  the  Late  War. 
By  Ward  Edwards,  V.  S.  V. 

239  KILPATRICK'S  BEST  BOWER; 
or,  A  Cavalry  Sweep  Through 
Georgia,    by  Marline  JIanlv. 

240  ON  SHILOH'S  FIELD  ;  or.  Fight- 
ing Kit  of  Kentucky.  Uy  Ward  Ed- 
wards, "Hif.-ii  Private,-  U.  S.  V. 

241-THE  WAR  REPORTER;or,  Bat- 
tle Smol<e  Among  the  Mount- 
ains.   By  Hugh  AUen,  of  the  New  York 


242-SHARPSHOOTER  AND  SPY;  or. 

The  Terrible  Panic  at  Bull  Run. 

I!y  M.ij.ir  A.  F.  Grant. 
243-MAD  SAM  THE  CAVALRYMAN; 
or,  With  Sheridan  in  the  Shenan- 
doah,   liy  Mark  Wilton. 

244  THE  MOUNTAIN  CANNONEER; 
or,  A  War  Mystery  of  Antietam. 
By  Anthonv  P.  Morris. 

245  TAKEN  AT  FREDERICKS- 
BURG; or.  The  Great  Tunnel  at 

Libby  Prison.  By  Aleck  Forbes,  "War 
Correspontlent." 

246-CHICKAHOMINY  JOE;  or,  Mc- 
Clellan's  Wonderful  Boy  Spy.  By 
Ward  Edwards,  U.  S.  V. 

247-AN  ARMY  TEAMSTER  DETECT- 
IVE ;  or,  The  Slaughter  at  Spott- 
sylvania.  By  A.P.Morris. 

248-A  DASHING  YANKEE  MIDDY; 
or.  Before  Vicksburg  with  the 
Gunboat  Flotilla.  By  Corporal  Morris 
Hoync. 

24g-KILPATRICK'S  FAMOUS  RIDE; 
or.  Pilgrim  Joe's  Fight  for  Free- 
dom.   Bv  J.  M.  Merrill. 

250-BEF0RE  RICHMOND;  or.  The 
Terrible     Mystery    of    Foxhall 

House.     Bv  Major  A.  F.  Grant. 

251     VOLUNTEER    DUKE;    or.  The 

Panic  at  Pittsburg  Landing.    By 


Ohic 


282-FREMONT,  THE  PATHFINDER; 
or.  Bullet  and  Bayonet  on  Mis- 
souri Battlefields.  By  Captain  Mark 
Wilton. 


2.'i3-SIECE-CUNS  AT   FISHER;  or. 

Perils    of   the    Great     Bombard- 
ment.    By  Major  A.  F.  Grant. 
254-WITH  THE  BOYS  IN  BLUE  ;  or. 
Private  Archie  Gordon's  Career. 

A  ThriUint,'    .story  of  Adventure    Down    in 
Dixie.    By  Marline  JIanly.       [Heady  .lulvS:!. 

255-STONEWALL  JACKSON'S  DIS- 
PATCH-BEARER; or.  The  Wild 
Rider  of  the  Shenandoah.  By  An- 
th..ny  P.  Morris.  [Ready  July30. 

256  ALONG  THE  POTOMAC;  or. 
Fighting  Pat,  of  the  Irish  Bri- 
gade, -i  Droll  and  E.xciting- Story  of  the 
War.    ISy  Bernard  Waydc.       TKcady  Aug.  6. 

257-THE  OLD  KNAPSACK;  or.  Long- 
street's  MadChargeatKnoxville. 
By  Aleek  Forties,  "  War  Correspondent." 

[lieady  Aug.  13. 

258-CARL,  THE  UNION  SCOUT;  or. 
The  True  Blue  Sons  of  Tennes- 
see. -V.  Itou.sing  Tale  of  Hood's  LastCam- 
]iaign.  By  Major  A.  F.Grant.  [Ready  Aug.20. 

259-CAMP  AND  CONFLICT;  <■  c. 
From  Mill  Springs  to  Vicksb    rg. 

A  Battling  .'itory  of  Tennessee.      B-    Men 
Myrtle.  [Heady  j  ag.  :;t. 

260-THE  LASTCHARCE;or,Cr<.ssed 
Swords  at  Antietam.  By  '"orporal 
-Morris  lloyne.  [Eea.' .  Sept.  S. 


fin*  :e3 cj X -A. Ij     :e  i^itx  oit- 

Life  and  Military  Services  of 

GENERAL    U.    S.    GRANT. 

BY  W.   H.  VAN   OlIDEN. 
Double  Xumbei;  J*rice  SO  cents. 


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